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scarisd3ad · 8 months

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To the end and back | Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Nineteen - long story short I survived

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Warnings - regular twd warnings

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Word count - 8030

A/n - welcome to season 3 of to the end and back! And this is a long one.

'Seed'

S3 ep 1

it's been almost 4 months since we found Casey all alone in the woods and so much has changed since then. we've been bouncing around from town to town trying to find somewhere permanent to live, somewhere that has walls or fences or something to keep walkers out. carol and I have been learning from Hershel just in case Lori gives birth and he's not there. I'm the more educated between the two of us so I would be the one to perform the c-section if Hershel wasn't there but that's a big if.

Casey is stood beside me while Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Carl, and Rick clear this house we've found. Casey is 5 years old, she has bright blonde hair, and freckles littering her cheeks. she looks up at me with her big blue eyes, her brows are furrowed "are we going to stay here tonight?" Casey asks, "I dunno Case" I whisper "do you think Daryl's alright?" Casey has gotten close with Daryl despite his hesitation around the young child staying with us in the first few weeks. Rick whistles and we all begin to walk towards the house. Casey reaches up and grabs my hand as we walk towards the house. Lori waddles towards her husband, she's really pregnant now I'm sure she'll probably give birth in the coming weeks.

we're all gathered around in a living room like space in the house. Daryl is sat next to me with Casey leaning over his leg with her elbows propped up on his thigh while he messes with an owl he found. "What are you gonna do with that owl?" she asks her eyes filled with curiosity "eat it" he replies bluntly, her nose scrunches up in disgust "is it good?" she whispers as her brows furrow together "when you're hungry" I chuckle at his response. Carl walks into the room and places two cans of dog food he's found on the floor in front of him. on the road food is scarce so we eat whatever the hell we can find. he pulls a can opener out of his bag and begins to open up one of the cans. Rick walks over to his son and picks the can up off of the ground, Carl looks up at Rick with his brows furrowed together. rick tosses the can angrily which makes Daryl look up from the bird in his hands. Rick looks like he's about to say something when T-dog brings our attention to a small herd of walkers stumbling their way towards the house. we all grab up our weapons and the things we brought in before running out a back door. I kneel down in front of Casey and bring my pointer finger up my lips. she nods and repeats the motion to me before we run out the back door. I throw the stuff I brought in into the back of Shane's old car that is now Maggie and Glenns car before walking over to the passenger side door. I open up the door and get in before letting Casey hop up into my lap and closing the door. Hershel and Maggie get into the back seat while Glenn gets in the front and starts up the car.

Casey is sat in my lap with her head pressed against my chest as she snored soundly. there are some pieces of her hair that is stuck to her forehead. I run my hand over her hair pushing her hair off of her forehead. I was finally getting used to the whole taking care of a child thing, yeah, I took care of carl and the other kids that were a part of our group, but I was able to give them back at the end of the day. there aren't any parents to give Casey back to Daryl and I have taken that responsibility. we take care of putting her to sleep getting clothes for her, feeding her, and making sure she gets to grow up just like any other kid would that wasn't in the middle of the apocalypse.

I lean my head down a bit and press a kiss to her forehead. I look up to see Glenn smiling before he quickly looks back at the road. Casey has taken a liking to Glenn and Maggie as well calling them aunt Maggie and Uncle Glenn. we didn't tell her to call them that she just started calling them that and who are we to tell her not to, we are like a big family anyways. Caseys eyes pop open when we hit a big bump in the road. she gasps as she sits up straight, she turns herself towards the window watching as the trees and other things quickly pass by. "Uncle Glenn" she whispers as she presses her left hand against the glass. "Yeah bug?" he replies back with a nickname he came up for her when he found out about her love for any type of bug. "Where are we going?"

"Wherever Rick takes us."

we stop on a small road surrounded by forest. I open the door letting Casey hop out before I get out as well and close the door behind us. she grabs my hand as everyone else begins to gather around the hood of Glenn and Maggie's car. Glenn spreads a map of the area across the hood of his car. Casey pulls at my arm, I look down with my brows furrowed "can I go to Beth?" she whispers, I let out a sigh. Beth was supposed to be keeping watch and I'm sure she doesn't want a little kid she possibly has to keep safe if anything were to happen. "Are you going to mess with her or help her keep watch?" I ask, her brows furrow together as if she's trying to decide what she's going to do "I'll help her I promise" I sigh again as I nod "go ahead but if she tells you to come back you come right back to me do you understand?" she nods before letting go of my hand and running off towards Beth. I watch as she interacts with Beth talking to her probably telling her she wants to help before Beth looks up at me. I make a facial expression as if I'm asking if it's alright and Beth nods, so I turn towards that car and prop my elbows up onto the hood as I lean over looking at the map.

"we've got no place left to go" there are so many herds around here mostly walkers who are roaming out of the city's and they're just grouping together more and more creating bigger and bigger herds. "When this herd meets up with this one, we'll be cut off. we'll never make it south" Maggie states as she points to two places where we last saw 2 herds that we're definitely going to join together soon. "What would you say? that was about 150 head?" Daryl asks as he leans himself against the car. Glenn shrugs "that was last week, it could be twice that by now" Hershel points to a river that we passed by earlier this week that was definitely also in that herds path "this river could have delayed them. if we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through there." Hershel says, T-dog cuts Hershel off by saying "yeah, but if this group joins with that one, they could spill out this way" there's so many potential scenarios that could have happened that there's no way of predicting where they are and how many walkers are a part of that herd by now. "So, we're blocked" Maggie sighs.

Rick steps forwards muttering "only thing to do is double back at 27 and swing towards Greenville" as he shows what we should do with his finger on the map. we've already been there; we've picked through everything left in every town in the fucking area we're going to have to eventually go somewhere else. "Yeah we-we picked through that already. it's like we spent the winter going in circles" T-dog's right we've spent the entire winter running around in circles staying in small storage units, basement, and houses while we picked through anything left in the abandoned neighborhoods and convenience stores nearby. soon enough we're going to run out of places to go here and have to leave or at least find a place where we can start farming our own food.

Rick nods agreeing with t-dog "yeah I know, I know. at Newnan we'll push west haven't been through there yet. we can't keep going house to house. we need to find someplace to hole up for a few weeks" Lori's going to give birth any day now and I don't think we can do that on the road. we need a house or a place that Lori is able to stay in while she recovers from the birth and the road is definitely not the place. "Alright, it cool if we go to the creek before we head out? won't take long. we gotta fill up on water. we can boil it later." T-dog says Rick nods waving them off as he says, "knock yourself out."

I walk over to where Beth and Casey are stood, Caseys smaller hand is interlocked with Beth's as she quietly talks to Beth. "c'mon case you wanna come sit in the car with me?" I ask, Casey lets go of Beth's hand as she nods. I grab Casey's hand and thank Beth for watching Casey while the adults talked. I walk Casey back to the car and get in the car first before letting her hop up onto my lap. "let's get this hair pulled up so no walkers can get ahold of it" I say, and she scrunches her nose up as she turns around in my lap, so the back of her head is facing me. "I don't like walkers" she mumbles as I run my fingers through her hair "neither do I" I reply as I pull her hair up into a ponytail and secure it with a hair tie I had on my wrist. "they're yucky" she mutters, I chuckle "yeah they're yucky." she turns back around in my lap so she's facing me. "where'd Daryl go?" she whispers as her brow furrow in confusion "he went hunting with Rick, but he'll be back soon" I explain, her brows raise up as she nods "I hope he doesn't find another owl" she mutters which makes me laugh. that owl was something I refused to eat it, but he shared some of it with Casey and I don't think she liked it as much as she wished she would. he tried explaining to her that it tasted like chicken, but she was not convinced after she took the first bite.

she leans her head against my chest as she lets out a little sigh. "Are you guys going to forget about me when the baby comes?" she whispers. my brows furrowed together as I look down at her. I don't know why she'd ask that question; we gave Casey a lot of attention, everyone in the group did maybe it was because she was the youngest in the group. I can remember everyone giving carl and Sophia a lot of attention back at the quarry because they were the youngest kids in the group. "Why would we do that Case?" I ask, she just shrugs before turning her head up towards mine "because I won't be the youngest anymore the baby will" she whispers I cup her face with both of my hands "I promise I won't forget you, and neither with Daryl" she smiles up at me before asking "what about Beth and uncle Glenn and aunt Maggie?" she asks I shake my head as I smile "and neither will they. we all love you case we won't forget about you" I say softly as I let go of her face.

Daryl and Rick come running back to us shouting about how they found a place that they could possibly turn into a safe place for us to live. they lead us back to a prison that is currently overrun with walker, but we can clear out the yard first and then slowly make our way in clearing out block after block. Casey's hand is held tightly in mine as Rick cuts open the fence. there's a good amount of walkers in the yard right now but we can clear them out easily what I'm worried about is the inside because we can't even predict how many are in there. there are a couple walkers around the fence of prison, but Glenn and Maggie take them out quickly. rick finally gets the fence cut wide enough so we can all squeeze through. we all get through to the other side before Rick and Daryl tie it back up with a cable.

We all follow Daryl as he runs towards where the entrance to the yard is. walkers chase up on either side of the fence as they bang at the flimsy metal. Daryl pushes the gate open. this new area is cleared of walker too. Rick drops the bag he was holding as we all file into the area. "it's perfect" Rick mutters. if we're able to clear this place out this will be perfect. there are fences to keep walkers out, guard towers to keep watch, a big yard to grow our own produce, and a gigantic prison. we could probably start taking people in if we wanted to it.

"If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. we'll take the field by tonight" Rick states as a few walkers begin banging at the fence trying to get to us. "So how do we shut the gate?" Hershel asks, Rick turns his head back to look at the gate that's open. Ricks brows furrow as he thinks. "I'll do it. you guys cover me" Glenn speaks up, Maggie shakes her head "no. it's a suicide run." he turns looking at his girlfriend who is still shaking her head. Glenn is always the first one to offer himself as a sacrifice so the others in group will be safe, I disapprove of his way of thinking, but he doesn't ever listen to me. "I'm the fastest" Rick shakes his head as well as he says "no you, Maggie, and Beth draw as many as you can over there. pop'em through the fence." Rick explains as he points to the fence "Daryl, go back to the other tower. carol, you've become a pretty good shot." he walks over to carol and says "take your time. we don't have a lot of ammo to waste" in a quieter voice before turning to Hershel "Hershel, you carl, and y/n. take this tower." carl nods mumbling "okay" before he and Hershel run towards the stairs that lead up to the tower. I kneel down in front of Casey who's still holding my hand tightly. "you're gonna stay with Lori, alright?" she nods "make sure to hold her hand alright" I say before running after carl and Hershel.

I look down to the ground making sure Casey is holding Lori's hand before reloading my gun and beginning to shoot. my aim has gotten so much better since back at the farm. I try not wasting ammo only shooting if I really know I'll make the shot. Rick runs across the yard before closing the gate. rick shoots a couple walkers in his way before getting into another guard tower in the yard. "Light it up!" Daryl shouts when he knows Rick is in no way able to get shot while we're finishing off the left-over walkers. Rick appears up at the top and helps us finish off the rest of the walkers.

once we're finished, we all come down from the guard towers. "Fantastic!" carol giggles as her and Daryl walk over to where Carl, Hershel, and I are coming out of the 2nd guard tower. "Good job" Daryl whispers as he presses a small kiss to my temple. Casey lets go of Lori hand and runs over to Daryl and I. "we, did it?" she asks cocking her head to the side a bit. "mhm we did it" I reply as she grabs for Daryl's hand. "Hold my hand" she demands, he looks down at her his brows furrowed together before muttering "alright c'mon kid" she's got him wrapped around her finger, its actually really cute how much of a soft spot he has for the little girl. Casey drags Daryl into the yard by his hand and I follow after them. carol runs into the yard "oh, oh we haven't had this much space since we left the farm!" she cries out as she runs around like a little kid.

Casey lets go of Daryl's hand and begins to run around doing cartwheels. "Daryl! can you do a cartwheel!" she shouts as she does a few cartwheels in a row. Daryl stops and I walk over to him as he watches the little girl continue to do cartwheels. "No, I can't fu- I can't." I laugh as he tries censoring himself, "don't hurt yourself Case!" I shout as she stops cartwheeling to look at me. "I won't!" she says before she does a few more cartwheels. "You sure you can't do one of those D?" I ask and he scoffs "you tryin' to fuckin' kill me?" I laugh and roll my eyes at his exaggeration. Casey does a few cartwheels consecutively counting each one out loud "one, two, three four...oof" she stops for a second before falling onto her butt. my once calm and expression quickly morphs into concern. she quickly gets up shouting "I'm alright!"

we start up a fire and make dinner for ourselves, for the first time in months we're all happy. we've spent months almost freezing to death, staying in small storage units, and starving to death but finally we have some hope. Casey is sat in my lap; she eats as I braid her hair. "Mmm just like mom used to make" Glenn mutters before hurling the bone across the yard. Rick had rounded the entire yard 15 million times checking the fences its actually starting to get concerning. he just keeps going in circles stopping occasionally to speak to Daryl who is on watch. "Tomorrow we'll pull the bodies together, want to keep them away from that water, now if we can dig a canal under the fence, we'll have uh plenty of fresh water" T-dog declares, "and this soil is good. we could plant some seed, grow some tomatoes, cucumber, soybeans" Hershel sits straight before pointing to Rick "that's his third time around...if there was any part of it compromised, he'd have found it by now" I tie the second braid up with a hair tie before patting her back signaling to her that I'm finished.

she crawls out of my lap and crawls over to Glenn. "Hey bug" he whispers as she takes a seat in between him and Maggie. everyone in the group treats her like their own kid it's really sweet. Casey leans herself against Maggie as she stares into the fire. Beth leans forward toward Lori who's sat next to her "this'll be a good place to have the baby..safe." a small smile forms on Lori's lips. the entire winter was us trying to stay alive not living just surviving and I think place is going to be the place to change that. "Bethy, sing paddy Reilly for me, I haven't heart that, I think, since your mother was alive" Hershel requests. Beth's head hangs low, maybe its connected to a bad memory because Maggie says "daddy, not that one please" the three are silent for a few seconds before Hershel says, "how bout uh 'the partin' glass'?" Beth looks embarrassed as she looks to her father and says, "no one wants to hear." quietly. "Why not?" Glenn says. Maggie has an encouraging smile on her face as her sisters mumbles "okay" Beth is quiet for a few seconds before she begins to sing "of all the money e'er I had I spent it in good company" her voice is quiet almost as if she's a bit embarrassed to be singing by herself, "and all the harm e'er I've ever done, alas it was to none but me and all I've done for want of wit to memory now I can't recall." Hershel has a soft smile on his face as he watches his youngest daughter sing "so fill to me, the parting glass goodnight and joy be with you all." Beth stops and looks at her sister like she's telepathically asking her to sing with her.

both girls begin to sing "oh all the comrades that e'er I had were sorry for my going away and all the sweethearts that e'er I had would wish me one more day to stay..." Rick sits down next to his son and Carl hands Rick a bowl of food that he then try's handing it to Lori who whispers "I had some" but ends up grabbing some just to make her husband happy. Glenn has this lovesick look on his face as he admires his girlfriend as she sings, its cute watching him fall so helplessly in love with Maggie. "But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise, and you should not. I'll gently rise and ill softly call goodnight and joy be with you all, goodnight and joy be with you all" Hershel smiles as he says "beautiful" in response to his girls singing. "Better all turn in, I'll take watch other there. got a big day tomorrow" Rick mutters.

Casey looks over towards Daryl who is stood with carol. she gets up and runs to him. he grunts as she almost knocks him over in a hug. he tries to seem all tough, just patting her back. I push myself off of the ground and walk over to the two. "Look at my hair Daryl" she says stepping back a bit to show him her hair. "Looks pretty" he mutters as he pats her head. "y/n did it for me" Casey giggles as I press a kiss to Daryl's cheek. "mhm she did a good job" Daryl wraps an arm around my waist pulling me closer. "Look I know were all exhausted. this was a great win, but we've gotta push just a little bit more" rick says as I lean my head onto Daryl's shoulder. "Most of the walkers are dressed as guards and prisoners. looks like this place fell pretty early. it could mean the supplies may be intact. they'd have an infirmary, a commissary." this place could truly be a home forever. we'd just have to make small runs here and there into the towns surrounding it to get things when we're running low. "An armory?" Daryl asks his voice vibrating through his body making me raise my head off of his shoulder. "That would be outside the prison itself, but not too far away wardens' office would have info on the locations. weapons, food, medicine. this place could be a gold mine." it definitely could be, looking at the state of the outside of the prison it seemed like no one has come in or out since the outbreak, there definitely could be a lot of items that could be useful.

"We are dangerously low on ammo; we'd run out before we make a dent" Hershel states. my arms cross over my chest "that's why we have to go in there, hand to hand." we all look a little nervous we don't ever go in somewhere that is potentially overrun by walkers with no guns. it's stupid and basically just throwing yourself at the walkers and screaming at them to eat you. but we're so low on ammo that we'd run out not even halfway through the prison, so we have to. "After all we've been through, we can handle it, I know it. these assholes don't stand a chance" Rick bends over a bit towards carl as he whispers that with a smile. Carl nods and smiles up at his dad agreeing. Rick stands up and begins to walk away. Lori looks up at him, a guilty look on her face. Rick and her relationship have been rocky ever since Shane died, we can tell Lori's just a little mad at rick for killing him or maybe making Carl kill walker Shane. Rick also has pent up resentment towards Lori after he found out what happened between her and Shane, I think he blames her for ruining the friendship between him and Shane. but I think Shane was always a shitty man, he didn't just go for Lori because the world was ending, he had a thing for Lori way before rick went into a coma, I didn't even know the man before that happened and I could tell. no man just goes for a woman like that, it was like he had some sort of plan all along.

we all set up for the night, pulling out the blankets and sleeping bags we've collected along the way. I watch as Daryl sets up a little pallet of blankets and sleeping bags for us to lay on. Casey is stood next to him instructing him on where to place each blanket. "Right there Daryl that one's mine" she says as she points to where she's chosen to sleep. Daryl nods and places the blanket down. once he's done, she lays down and Daryl kneels down beside her. I'm sat just a few inches away sat on the ground just watching encounter. Casey tells Daryl to lean further down, and he does before she presses a kiss to his cheek. "Night Daryl" she whispers as she lays back down. the encounter between the two makes us feel like a real family, not like a mismatched group of people from different places. Daryl and I sit up a little later than everyone else talking.

"You think this'll last?" I ask my head cocking to the side as I look at him. he shrugs and grunts a quiet "Dunno" I lean my head onto his shoulder. "I hope I miss having a home" I whisper, he nods. we sit there listening to each other breath. I try matching his breathing before I give up realizing this man probably doesn't breathe as much as he should. "I love you, Daryl."

"I love you too sunshine.'"

the next day we wake up bright and early and make up a plan. Glenn, Maggie, Rick, Daryl, t-dog and I would go in and clear another part of the prison out, hopefully a block, while carol, Lori, Carl, Beth, Hershel, and Casey will stay on the other side of the fence drawing as many walkers as possible towards them to kill them through the fence. it was a good plan, foul proof. "Ready?" Rick nods and rips open the fence, we all go in trying to stay in a circular formation. we all start killing as soon as the walkers start stumbling towards us. one inmate staggers towards me so I raise my knife and stab it a few times in the head until it falls to the ground. t-dog runs out of our formation "don't break rank!" Rick shouts as t-dog picks up a police shield. Maggie follows t-dog to cover him "Maggie! Maggie!" she stabs one walker in the head before running back to us. "Almost there" Rick states as we walk under a bridge like thing. he pushes open a door making sure there aren't any walkers in that room before continuing past it. Rick stops peaking around the corner before quickly pressing his back flat against the wall "shit" he hisses, we all follow quickly pressing ourselves against the wall trying to be as unseen as we possibly can. 2 walkers stumble out from behind a big trash can they definitely saw us. they're dressed in bullet proof padding and helmets. two more stumble out closer to us than the other two, this was going to be difficult. they turn towards us watching Daryl who slowly steps towards them. he tries shooting one with his crossbow, but the arrow just slips past the hard plastic face covering. it growls at him before it starts staggering towards him. Rick quickly runs out from behind the wall were hiding behind and is followed by t-dog. a walker stumbles out of the door we just checked getting up into Maggie's face, about to bite her until she hits it in the head and shoves it.

"Daryl!!"

the walkers that were behind that fence are coming out from all of the racket we were making. most of these walkers are inmates, there aren't any helmets or padding blocking us from delivering a straight and easy kill. we kill off the few that had ventured out of the area before Rick and Daryl quickly close and secure the gate. these last few in the padding and helmets are going to be difficult. Maggie's got one pushing up against her, it almost pushes her over before she gets it straight in the neck. it falls to the ground limply before she turns to t-dog, Glenn, and I her eyes bright and filled with pride "see that?" her celebration is quickly interrupted by another one of them walkers charging towards T and Glenn. they both stop it quickly before stabbing it right through the neck. the walker falls to the ground, Glenn and t-dog are left there panting. Rick pushes one walker to the ground before kneeling down over it and pulling its mask off. its face pulls with though making a horrifying squelching sound. we all have a similar grossed out reaction to that. Rick lifts his knife above the walker's head before bringing it down right into its eye. Maggie runs off to a walker behind Rick that seemed to still be moving. she lifts it up off of the ground and lifts its mask up before stabbing right into its face. she drops it back down to the ground as Rick stands up off of the walker he was just killing. Maggie runs to us as Rick turns around staring at the large crowd of walkers banging on the fence.

when we're finally finished with all the walkers in this area we begin to walk back towards the yard. Glenn starts running but is stopped by Rick "stop" Glenn stops and stares back at Rick brows furrowed in confusion. Rick is slowly taking steps backwards as he scans every part of this area making sure there aren't any walkers left in the area. "Well, it looks secure" Glenn says. Daryl shakes his head and points towards the area that is filled with walkers "not from the look of that courtyard over there" he says, he then points to a walker dressed in regular street clothes "'n that's a civilian" there had to be some sort of hole or maybe a door open up on the front letting walkers in. the entire place could be filled with walkers if that was what was wrong. "So, the interior could be overrun with walkers from outside the prison." T has his had pressed against a wall as he says that. "Well, if there's walls down, what are we going to do? we can't rebuild this whole place" Glenn says with a small shrug "we can't risk a blind spot. we have to push in" Rick says as he begins to walk towards a door. we follow after rick walking into a cage like area. we all stop at an orange door making sure we're all ready for whatever we find inside. Daryl slides open the door, Rick walks in first and then Daryl before we all follow after. the inside is dark it's hard to see if anything is in front of us. Rick pushes open a door that leads into an area that was probably used for recreational time. the door squeaks eerily as he does so. Glenn slides the door closed behind us making the area even more dark than it was before. it's pretty much clear. there are tables on the ground floor and a guard tower above. Rick goes up into the guard area. he finds some keys which is progress.

Rick unlocks a door that leads into block c. this area also seems clear. the doors to the cells are all opened wide and there's trash littering the floor but there isn't any groaning or growling so that's a good sign. we look into each cell making sure there aren't any alive walkers that haven't noticed that we are here yet. there are only dead walkers on the bottom floor though. there is some loud clanging that makes Rick follow Daryl up into the top floor. there is some growling before both walkers up there are promptly killed.

we move the walker into a pile before letting everyone inside. I hold Casey's hand as we walk into the dark cellblock. "What do you think?" Rick asks as we walk in. "home sweet home." Glenn jokes. "For the time being" Rick replies. Casey looks up her eyes flicking between each cell. "it's secure?" Lori asks her husband, Rick nods "this cellblock is." Hershel steps forwards as he asks, "what about the rest of the prison."

"In the morning, we'll find the cafeteria and infirmary." Rick replies as he begins to walk towards us. "We sleep in the cells?" Beth asks, Rick nods "I found some keys on some guards. Daryl has a set, too" Daryl interrupts Rick muttering "I ain't sleepin' in no cage. I'll take the perch" I roll my eyes at his stubbornness, if this is permanent hell be sleeping in a "cage" for the rest of his life. "c'mon case let's find one to sleep in" Casey shakes his head "I don't wanna sleep in one of those either" she whispers. I let out a sigh "I want to sleep with Daryl" she adds. "Alright c'mon let's ask him" I grab her hand and we walk up the steps to where Daryl has decided he's sleeping. I had no doubt that Daryl would say yes to Casey, but I hoped he'd try to convince her to sleep in a cell with Beth or maybe carl we haven't had any time that was just Daryl and I in a long time.

"Go ask him" I whisper as I nudge her forwards towards Daryl who has now drug a mattress into the perch. "Daryl, can we sleep up here with you?" she asks her voice is quiet as she anxiously tetters back and forth on her heals. he looks down at Casey before he nods. Casey turns to me with an enthusiastic smile before running off to one of the cells to grab a mattress for herself. I walk over to Daryl and lean myself into him, his arms wrap around me before he presses a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm exhausted" I whisper into his shoulder; I wasn't only physically exhausted I was also mentally exhausted. the entire winter was just so draining that it felt like I needed to sleep for an entire week just to recover. "I know" he mutters as he rubs circles into my back. "I got a bed!" I turn out of Daryl's arms to see a breathless Casey dragging a mattress into the perch. "Oh, case I've got it" I say as I quickly walk over to her. I take the mattress out of her hands and drag it over so its next to Daryl's. "Do you want me to get you one?" she asks as she looks up at me. I laugh and shake my head "no I've got it case."

I'm kneeled down in front of Lori, she's worried about the baby, she says she hasn't felt it kick in a while. "I'm sure you haven't lost it Lori they might be..sleeping" I whisper she shakes her head "no...I have this feeling" I take my hand and press it against her belly trying to coax the baby to move just to show Lori that it's still alive. there isn't any movement "carol can you get Hershel for me?" I ask, she nods and walks out of the cell. I try everything I've learned to try and get the baby to move, and it just won't. "Maybe it's just tired Lori y'know we've been moving around so much...maybe it can feel how exhausted you are" I say just as Hershel and carol walk into the cell. I scoot over a bit letting Hershel kneel down in front of Lori. "it's the baby I think I lost it" she whispers with head hung low, "you haven't felt it move?" Hershel asks her. she shakes her head muttering "nothing." before choking out "and no Braxton-hicks" there is a possibility that she's lost the baby, she's been so stressed lately and how much the group has been moving around that could have caused her to miscarry. "At first I thought it was exhaustion or malnutrition." she explains, "your anemic?" she nods before lowering her head again and whispering "if we're all infected, then so's the baby. so, what if its stillborn?" that's something I never took into consideration, if she miscarried the baby and it reanimates in her womb that could. "What if its dead inside me right now? what if it rips me apart" a tear falls down her cheek as Hershel places a hand on her knee "stop, don't let your fear take control of you." she nods and sniffles "okay. then let's say it lives and I die during childbirth." Hershel shakes his head "that is not going to happen."

"Why not? how many women died in childbirth before modern medicine?" she whispers through tears, many women died in childbirth during modern medicine, and we are just 3 people who barely have experience in the medical field. there is a lot of risk involved with preforming a c-section without and prior experience. Hershel has only ever preformed on animals while carol and I have never performed surgery on anyone ever. I went to medical school for 2 years before the outbreak and everything carol has learned is from Hershel and I. if we make one wrong move with the blade she could die and who the fuck can live with the guilt of killing someone like that. I wouldn't ever be able to look Carl, Rick, or that baby in the eyes ever again. I would never be able to live with the guilt of killing someone's mother on accident.

"If I come back, what if I attack it? or you? or Rick? or Carl?" she shakes her head as she takes a deep breath in "if I do, if there is any chance, you put me down immediately, you don't hesitate. me, the baby." she chokes on her words as a few tears fall down her cheeks "if we're walkers, you don't hesitate and you don't try to save us. okay?" I grab Lori's hand and caress the top with my thumb "we won't have to; you and the baby will be perfectly fine...I promise" she shakes her head as more tears fall down her cheeks "you can't promise me that....it might have been better-" she stops herself as a rob racks through her body "if what?" Hershel asks "if I'd never made it off the farm" she confesses.

"you're exhausted, frightened." she nods and mutters "yeah that's true...my son can't stand me, and my husband after what I put him through..." she sighs as she shakes her head. the grimes family has been rocky since the farm. I think carl might've found out what had happened between Shane and Lori, Rick he's resentful, I think he might blame her for Shane's death, and Lori she tries she really does try to make it up to both of them, but it never seems to work. Carl doesn't even know what happened he's just heard about Shane and Lori's affair he doesn't know about what Shane did to her at the CDC or how he tried to kill his dad multiply time he just knows that Lori broke apart their family. " we've all been carrying that weight. all winter" more tears fall down Lori's cheeks as she cries "I tried to talk to him he..." she shakes her head as tears continue falling as she lowers her head "he'll come around" Hershel reassures her but she's not convinced. I think the whole group was hoping that this baby might fix something within the family maybe bring them back together but that still hasn't happened. I guess we just have to wait until its born to see. "He hates me, he's too good of a man to say it but I know" part of me wants to slap Rick and tell him about all the conversations I overheard between Lori and Shane. all the manipulation that had gone on while he was 'dead'. the things I heard him tell Lori always had an underlying tone of manipulation no matter what. 'he's dead Lori, he'd want you to be happy' 'c'mon Lori he won't care he's dead' it was the same way with Carl like Shane wanted to make him forget about his dad. I'm sure he wanted to replace Rick entirely and he was close to doing so until Rick came back from the dead. I wanted to tell Rick how when I first joined the group I watched as Shane tried to squeeze himself into a grieving mother and sons' family.

while Lori and Carl grieved their father and husband's death Shane was plotting and planning trying to figure out the best way to replace Rick. I just wanted rick to understand what happened because he wasn't there to watch and almost everyone who was there is dead. Dale watched continuously so did Amy and Andrea. Amy and I watched, every kiss to on the cheek or an arm around a shoulder had some underlying plan to it. Rick thought Shane was a good man turned bad by circumstance, but Shane was always a bad man who just took advantage of a horrible situation to let himself flourish.

"I put him and Shane at odds. I put that knife in his hand." Lori says through sobs. she brings her hand up to her face wiping tears as they fall. "You know who doesn't give a shit about that? this baby" Lori chuckles as she looks back up at Hershel "now let's make sure everything is alright."

"Do you have to go with them?" I'm kneeled in front of Casey; we're all stood in the cellblock getting ready to go into some hallway like things that lead to other parts of the prison. "They need my help case" a whisper as I cradle her face in my hands. "you're gonna stay with Lori alright? and Beth is staying here with you too" she shakes her head "b-but Daryl's already going can't you stay with me? I don't want anything to happen to you" I caress her cheek with my thumb "nothings gonna happen bug I promise" since her mother and father died, she's been terrified of Daryl or I leaving and not coming back. days like this when both of us have to go somewhere is her worst nightmare. "Now give me a hug and I promise me, and Daryl will come back in one piece" she hugs me, and I practically have to pull her off of me to hand her over to Lori.

Daryl locks the door behind us as Maggie, Glenn, T, Rick, Hershel and I file into the hallway area. we follow after Rick as he shines his flashlight down the hallway. there's nothing but corpses littering the hallway but no walker yet. water leaks from the ceiling as we make sure each corpse is truly dead.

Glenn marks each hallway signaling which direction we came from so we know how to get back to our cellblock. Maggie shrieks as she turns a corner right into Glenn. "sorry" Glenn mutters to his girlfriend. we turn down the next hallway and there still aren't any walkers maybe there just aren't any walkers in here. maybe they were all stuck outside and hadn't really made it inside of the prison yet. Glenn marks the wall as we continue down the hallway. it seems like were really lucky until we turn a corner and there's maybe a dozen or so standing there like they were just waiting for us. "Go back, go back go back!" Rick hisses, we all begin to sprint down the way we came. this was a job for guns not knives.

we get split from Glenn and Maggie as were running down the hallways. there must have been a group of walkers that cut them off causing them to have to run back. we have to stop and hide up in a closet to recuperate and figure out what we were going to do. "where's Glenn and Maggie?" Rick whispers "we have to go back" walkers and groaning and growling as they stumble past the closet were hiding in. "but which way?" Rick gets up off of the ground and pushes the door open as slowly as he can to minimize the noise it makes. we follow him as we walk into the now empty hallway. we retrace our steps making sure to be extra careful this time.

"Maggie! Glenn!" Hershel whisper shouts down a clear hallway. we're walking down the hallways whispering Glenn and Maggie's name down each one when we hear a horrifying scream that makes us all turn around and run towards the sound. "No!" we run back down the way we came to see a walker taking a big chomp out of Hershel's ankle. Rick pulls his gun and shoots the walker before we all run to Hershel's side. Hershel's wailing and so is Maggie who had just turned the corner. Glenn and Rick help Hershel up and we're just about to begin running back towards our block when walkers block us on both sides. it seems like were running forever before we come across another pair of double doors that are being kept shut by a pair of handcuffs. the handcuffs are cut off before were running into the new room. Daryl and t-dog are keeping the door shut while the rest of us are gathered around Hershel.

everyone else is holding him down while I'm looking down at the big chunk that is missing from his ankle. "Y-you're just gonna have to cut it off Rick" I whisper just loud enough so Rick could hear over Hershel's loud whimpering. Rick nods and shakily takes off his belt before tying it just a little bit above the wound. "there's only one way to keep you alive" Rick then brings the axe above his head before he begins to hack at Hershel's leg.

Hershel's loud screams of agony almost masks the disturbing crunch, crunch, crunch of the axe cutting through his bone. finally, the lower part of his leg is no longer attached and oh god have I never seen that much blood in my life. the axe falls to the ground with a loud clang and Rick stands up. "Oh, he's bleeding out" Hershel is passed out and blood is just pouring from his leg. "I-" I'm about to say something when I hear Daryl mutter "duck" and I see a group of people in the corner of my eye. Daryl stands up pointing his crossbow at the group of inmates as he slowly makes his way towards them.

"Holy shit."

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princeresnikov · 2 years

Text

it's in my nature {Tangerine} // 3

three. the scorpion: the frog denies his fable.

Chapter Summary: The Scorpion experiences second-hand ego death watching as The Twins come to terms with her true identity. It may be her last job before she's no longer in debt to The White Death, but the conversation she has with his Son reminds her that there will be no love lost if she never speaks to him again. Or anyone in this godforsaken family.

{ Masterlist }

A/N: 4339 words. and we're back with more shenanigans! there's a lot to build here and im fighting the urge to explain all the backstory because i KNOW it plays out in the story and i just have to give it and myself time. anyways i think this went through three drafts before now, but im pretty happy with it all things considered. i would love to hear any and all feedback, suggestions, anything! these chapters keep getting far longer than i anticipate, i hope y'all don't mind. again im iffy on characterisation but that's mostly for The Son this time, but tbh it's not like that's going to be an ongoing issue as we all well know so... i hope it works for now.

Warnings: Don't be surprised when the OC is a terrible person and is implied to have done terrible things along with the rest of them. There will be smut in the future chapters.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions of death and violence.

Taglist: @venusthepirate @malar-region @tangerinesgf @esmaada @sarcastic-sourwolf @djjskfkskjf @justshutupmars @somikesoc @chachadelight @andydre4m @evangelineflowers @darkchai @basementsoup @bellatrix124 @kunikidaswhore @thewinterschildren178 @felhomaly @perksofbeingamultifandomm @aniglio18 @geeiz @mimidior

[ always open, just message or comment! ]

-----

Turmoil is a word Clementine is trying to stay away from when looking for ways to describe her current mental state. Turmoil, she believes, downplays the absolute clusterfuck of confused, startled, blinding rage she's feeling right in this very moment.

The absolute last person she wants to see in this exact moment would be that rat-fuck Son of the White Death. Yet here he is, of course, still calling her Clementine and Scorpion, like he has any right to either! Both are names he is responsible for in one way or another, both of which she absolutely hates him for! That stupid little frog! After everything he's done!

Unfortunately for Clementine, there is also a non-zero chance that he is in some way part of this whole ordeal, probably some last challenge or punishment before she's out of this godforsaken family's clutches; if anyone would know where her cash bonus would be, it's him.

But he's not the issue, he's easy to deal with after all the time she's known him, it's his babysitters who throw a real spanner into the works. Guards alone would be an issue considering she has know way of knowing how much they know about the situation, if anything, but The Twins, Lemon and Tangerine, present a unique challenge that of course only she would end up facing. She'dclosed her book with The Twins in New York, in a very permanent way, a way that would be messy to even attempt to reopen.

Messy. That's a word for it. Messy, deceitful history with the twins. Messy, definitive end to their time together. Messy, tumultuous clusterfuck in this exact moment.

The jig is up. Tangerine and Lemon are both looking at her, Lemon like he's seen a ghost, while Tangerine who's already powered through that particular revelation was quietly glowering at her like he was still trying to figure the rest of her out. Or like he's about ready to kill, which Clementine knows she absolutely deserves. It's also Tangerine who moves first, looking to Lemon with that same, burning intensity. She'll let them have their moment, instead turning her attention to The Son. He's regarded her warily, which Clementine had to admit, did feel rather good. Had he been his usual arrogant self she doesn't know if she could have stopped herself from mauling him.

Except in the next moment his eyes as grazing down her attire. Leering? Perhaps. Usually at least a little. But when he meets her gaze again there's noticeable tension in his jaw. It's a subtle shift, but Clementine knows the moment The Son stops regarding her as a threat to himself; perhaps it's the reproachful look in his eyes, or the way he slouches further into his seat, but some of that arrogance is back. It's never far away. Frog.

Clementine's chameleonic prowess is more than familiar to him, using it to his full advantage when she'd been assigned his security detail in the past, so of course The Son can see his sister's fingerprints all over Clementine's current aesthetic -

Ah. Right. Damn it, The Prince, four cars down and completely untrustworthy at the best of times. Whatever brief feelings of affection she'd had for the girl, thinking she may have been trying to help Clementine as some sort of final, kind gesture, have evaporated.

She hates every single part of this family and she'll be so glad to be rid of them after today -

Again it's Tangerine moves first, but this time he isn't the only one. Clementine may be watching him slide from his seat, but in her peripheries Lemon is fidgeting with something she can't see. But she has her guesses; The Twins were never unarmed if they could help it. Now beside her, Tangerine gestures to the window seat with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Still in his suit jacket, she can see both his hands; gun still probably holstered knowing him, not that she should underestimate him. An attempt at misdirection? Maybe, but probably more for the sake of the passengers around them than Clementine herself.

Lemon stops fidgeting, resting one hand on the table almost casually. His other hand rests beneath the table, subtle unless you know what to look for. The window seat is a trap.

"Hold this for me, would you?" Clementine's smile is all teeth as she passes Tangerine her bag, the little leather satchel. He's not thrilled to take it, but isn't exactly given a choice before she gracefully takes her seat by the window. Tangerine takes the aisle seat before she's even settled, the picture of quiet fury as he boxes her in as intended. Her bag rests on the table between The Twins rather than being given back directly, undoubtably a subtle power play. Clementine knew what she was doing handing it over in the first place, so she'll let it be for now, nothing inside is truly vital, though she'd be sad to leave her first aid supplies. Escape would be tricky if necessary, but not impossible -

"I'd keep sudden movements to a minimum," Lemon says carefully across the table. Clementine's darting gaze settles on him immediately. Her lips twitch into a warm smile out of habit; people generally have more patience in the face of kindness, a few moments of silence becomes more tolerable, less unnerving to people, if she wore a believable smile. But Lemon's frown deepens, unconvinced.

"I'll behave," and despite how she tries to sound genuine, the low, irate sigh that escapes Tangerine does not go unnoticed by her.

"Clementine isn't here for me," that goddamn smug voice has Clementine's expression darkening almost as if a switch was flipped. When she looks to The Son, he's not smirking but she can tell he wants to. Her lip curls in reflexive, visceral disgust at the nickname; the urge to maim him passes through her almost like a shiver, so strong they all see hints of it, down to the way her fingers flex out on against the table. It's a jarring contrast to the harmless expression she wears.

"You'll have to forgive us for exercising a healthy level of caution anyhow," Tangerine interjects. At least he sounds calmer; each word still sounds like a threat, but he seems to have settled into the situation. Only The Son, focused on Clementine herself, sees the split second that a wicked gleam shines in her eyes. The tense set of her shoulders visibly relaxes. Everything about her seems to change in the blink of an eye, from poised and deliberately calculating to sweet and understanding, as if trying to make herself appear as small and unthreatening as possible.

"Of course, you have every right to feel safe!" And maybe she raises the pitch of her voice, makes herself sound earnest as she turns doe-eyed looks upon The Twins. All three at the table with her see the act for what it is; internally she revels in the way Lemon and Tangerine are regarding her with growing distrust, "but surely, for three gentlemen such as yourselves, the gun is overkill against a little lady like me," her gaze locks on Lemon, making it abundantly clear that while she understood his threat, she didn't actually seem to take it all too seriously.

"Not after the little lady walked away from a bullet to the head," Lemon doesn't even blink despite how intently Clementine had been committing to the bit. Good. All that she'd managed to observe back in New York still appeared to hold true; she knew what tune to sing to make The Twins dance.

The smug look is gone from The Son's face when she finally looks back at him; the message has reached it's intended audience loud and clear. For as long as they'd known each other he'd held the power, he'd been The White Death's son, he was to be protected, his bruised ego cost her the life she'd been building and she'd never so much as raised her voice at him; his Clementine was never a real threat to him. He'd grown complacent.

Despite the messiness of the situation, it had to be said that there was something exhilarating about being respected as a competent threat. The Twins saw it, and from the look in his eyes The Son was finally seeing it too.

The White Death's children all play the same games; at least with this one she doesn't have to sit here and let him win today.

So she lets the act drop all at once with a pleased sigh, savouring this small joy amongst the mess of these moments. Another change in her demeanour, another deliberate choice of what she shows the world. There's a jarringly relaxed confidence to her now, languid movements almost masking how deliberate they were.

"Listen, Scorpion- Clementine -" Lemon straightens up, looking firmly between Clementine and The Son, finally settling to focus on the mercenary, who's instinctive, venomous 'Scorpion' goes mostly overlooked by The Twins, but not by the Son, who rolls his eyes. Lemon continues on insistently, "Scorpion, we can all have a big, old fuckin' tea party where you explain how exactly you survived a sniper round to the skull, after we deliver this prick to his dad," which is the exact point The Son checks out of the conversation, as Clementine had seen him do countless times before, choosing instead to focus on the blur of landscape beyond the window. "But right now -" but Lemon cuts himself off, heaving a deep sigh as he can't quite find a way to finish his sentence. Something changes in his expression and suddenly he can't look her in the eye. Had it finally hit him?

Does he remember how they used to run into each other while she had been on her lunch breaks back in New York? Does he remember the deli and how she'd listened so intently when he would talk? How must it feel to remember the way he had thanked her for recommendations around the city, or does he wonder if she knew he'd invite her out on her days off as a cover when he was tailing his mark? How long would it take him to realise there was no such thing as coincidence?

Even so, before that last revelation could occur, it had to be strange to have to hold the girl who looks no different from those memories at gunpoint, to ask her if she's here to kill the man sitting beside him.

"He's actually right," it physically pains her to admit as much, despite how she cushions it with a gentle sigh, thereby also easing the burden from Lemon, "our respective jobs on this train run parallel. This..." her gaze flicks for one resentful moment to The Son, "this is simply an unfortunate intersection." After a beat, Clementine wets her lips, diverting her focus from Lemon and Tangerine to her real target with a mean little smile at the corners of her mouth when her explanation was met with no resistance.

"Speaking of unfortunate, you look like shit," Clementine gloats, reaching out across the table to take hold of The Son's chin, gently angling his chin to get a better look at the damage he'd sustained. Almost as if by instinct, his focus shifts to her bag on the table, as if aware of the medical kit inside. There's bitter resignation in his face, like he expects her to do something about the wounds, as she's always done in the past. But he's not her problem today.

"I'd rather you kill me than make me listen to you talk like that," The Son can't meet her gaze, jerking out of her grip when it was clear she wasn't planning on aiding him, instead focusing instead on the scenery speeding past the window, "who are you today?" As Clementine pulls back, resting both gloved hands on the table between them, he can't help how his attention is drawn to them, watching from the corner of his eye, still mostly turned away.

"Depends on who you ask."

"Did my father send you too, you selfish little Scorpion?" He rolls his eyes, spits the word like it's an insult. Rage burns white-hot through her veins the minute the name leaves his lips. The tension that suddenly holds her hostage is the only thing stopping her from lurching across the table and mangling him in broad daylight on this otherwise pleasant train. Bright expression frozen, she flexes her fingers out against the little table again. He watches her hands; selfishly she hopes it's because he feels at least a flicker of guilt.

"Your father," there is poison in every single sweet syllable she utters, "was right about you, you pathetic, little frog!" The malicious tone she uses is almost a threat unto itself, and it's enough to incense The Son from his feigned apathy to lurch forward, against the table, against where he was restrained in his seat, growling that he isn't a fucking frog while he looks her in the eyes like he hopes she gets the message. "If it walks like a frog, and runs it's mouth like a frog," her lip curls in defiant cruelty, "it'll bleed like a frog," Clementine's fingertips are arch and spidery braced against the tabletop, slowly leaning in to meet his challenge head-on, nose to nose, practically made of malevolence. In that moment her Brooklyn accent drops, the words spilling from her with a weight and tone that is distinctly Russian, mirroring The Son -

"Clementine?" Tangerine's jarringly casual tone immediately brings her out of the moment; how long had his hand been on her thigh? How long had he been trying to get her attention? But the intensity is gone the minute the name leaves his lips. Clementine blinks, looking as if she'd been caught off guard by her own anger, immediately softening to rectify that, if only for a second before she catches herself once more. A second is all it takes, however, and despite her mask barely slipping, The Son had seen it. His eyes light up with recognition, the kind that pits worry in Clementine's stomach, the kind she can't predict the consequences of. Still she allows her focus to shift to Tangerine, not even realising that she's started fidgeting with her gloves again. The Son simply shifts low in his seat.

"What, Tangerine?" In matching his energy she'd gone back to the Brooklyn accent. When she looks at him she's surprised by how calm he is, or at least how calm he seems; when he tilts his head to meet her gaze, the smile he's wearing is one she almost recognises. It's almost warm.

"Play nice would you, love? Don't wanna do to you what they did to Old Yeller," the way he talks is completely incongruent to the words themselves, sounding so warm and casual one might think he was joking, that it might border on fond teasing to a passing stranger. He gives her thigh the faintest squeeze for emphasis.

The Son actually snorts a laugh, but Clementine ignores him.

"That's grim," Lemon added, chatting just as casually with his brother as if it wasn't a threat, as if he wasn't the one with the gun, "even for you that's grim."

Tangerine takes the bait, because Tangerine always takes the bait. It's all so familiar. When Clementine leans further back in her seat, she pushes her luck and leans her shoulder is against his. Tangerine seems to allow it. The points of contact grounds her, but The Son's gaze darts between them, not that she can bring herself to give a shit, she'd always enjoyed The Twin's petty squabbling. Brief moment of dark amusement aside, The Son once more checks himself out of the conversation before Clementine's very eyes. However, this time he fixes his gaze on her, watching her with intrigue. Unfortunately, this too she is used to. It's easy enough to ignore.

"Well I don't dictate how to deal with rabid dogs, I just know the reference."

"You've seen Old Yeller?"

"I know the reference well enough to make it; you harass everyone on Big Brother on if they've read 1984?"

"You haven't -"

"'course I bloody well haven't watched Big Brother!"

They're arguing about how to best allude to killing her, this should not be the kind of strangely familiar that makes her chest grow warm. But Tangerine's hand is still on her thigh, thumb running back and forth in comforting repetition, most likely out of distracted habit. At least that's what Clementine tells herself. Even so, it's a reminder to behave, to not scare the poor civilians around them by causing any sort of scene. A small, familiar moment of contact. She not even fidgeting with her gloves.

"She should be put down," even The Son's cruel interjection is thrown into the conversation light enough to not bring the banter down. Clementine parries in kind with a roll of her eyes, telling him that she'd put him down in a minute -

"Now that's not playing nice," Tangerine's hand is still on her thigh, that hint of warning back in his words. Clementine almost trips on the subtle tone change, you've never complained before pressing against the back of her teeth behind her teasing smile, before she meets his gaze. In his eyes she sees his warning, but watches as he seems to realise what she'd thankfully left unspoken.

"I'm not Old Yeller-ing Clementine," Lemon cuts through their moment. When Clementine looks at him, she makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat clearly directed at his use of the nickname. Tangerine's disappointment matched Clementine's disgust.

"You are holding the gun."

"I'm not Old Yeller-ing The Scorpion," Lemon repeats in the exact same no-nonsense tone, adding, after a beat, "I'll pull the trigger but I'm not calling it that."

"Call it whatever you want, I'm not gonna argue the referential fuckin' semantics of Clementine's public execution," it's said like it's final, and it at least seems to satisfy Lemon for the time being. It takes only a moment, however, for Clementine to chime in hesitantly.

"I have an argument."

Tangerine turns to her so slowly, as if he can't believe she'd have the gall to keep this inane argument going. When both his hands come to rest on the table she's already disappointed at the lack of contact.

"Hate to burst your bubble but you don't exactly get a say in your own execution."

"Actually it's about that; it's about the semantics," she corrects. Tangerine blinks at her. There's something undeniably conflicted in his eyes for a moment; there's a different cadence to the way they used to talk to each other, but he still has to be remembering it in this moment. It passes, however, in half a second landing instead on being unimpressed. But lets her continue, "it's not a public execution."

"Not public enough for you?"

"No, no, not that at all! The Shinkansen is definitely a top ten spot to be killed, definitely enough passengers for it to be considered a public execution -"

"Then what is your problem with my semantics?"

"I just think it's a bit bold to call it an execution," when she glances over at the other two, Lemon is giving her the most deadpan look she thinks she's ever received. But, in a shockingly rare moment of solidarity, she catches The Son turning away as he struggles to fight off an amused smile, knowing her well enough to know where she was going with this. At least there's one moment of levity on the last day she'll ever have to put up with him again, she finds herself musing.

"A bit bold?" Tangerine's dry tone brings her focus back to him. Perhaps it's wrong to be amused, but she can't help the faint smile she wears as she explains her thoughts.

"Execution implies -" hesitating, she can see Tangerine's already looking like he doesn't like where she's going with this, "or, well, no, there's a certainty to the implication that I'll die." She should have probably stopped talking before now. Someone should have stopped her. But they haven't, so that's on the other three she reasons, "and I think it's bold of you - either of you -" she gestures off-handedly to Lemon, who's expression is mirroring his brother's, both exasperated, "to, you know, guarantee that, or implicitly guarantee that- that you'll be capable of that. And presumptuous," she adds after a beat, making a show of straightening her posture. Here is where her tone becomes more than a little wry, watching The Son out of the corner of her eye, "that you'll have to injure me that is; I'm playing nice with the frog."

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Lemon chimes in, choosing wisely to mostly ignore her rant, and The Son now actively glaring at Clementine across the table. They all were. And really she did have a point; shooting her was the absolute last resort, the arguments were unnecessary. Lemon's always been particularly reasonable about most things, which in this moment she's grateful for.

The question still managed to surprise Clementine, the woman growing quiet and pensive in the moments that followed. It takes her several moments of looking between both Lemon and Tangerine before she fully seems to believe that the question was genuine; both seem too genuinely curious to have already pieced it together.

"Because I'm The Scorpion." Like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

They aren't given proper time for the explanation to sink in before The Son himself tells her to fuck off if she isn't here to kill any of them, which might be the only thing she's glad he's said this entire time. It had become abundantly clear that even if The Son did know where her money was, he'd torture her like this for as long as he could before he'd hint at a cent. As always, he is of no help whatsoever. But Clementine can't help but take the bait -

"God I can't wait," Clementine cuts him off with a smug kind of vitriol, gloved hands coming to rest on the table in front of her, fingers spread wide and palms flat against the wood, "for your father to finally take something permanent from you," this time she speaks solely in Russian, clear and elegant, "I hope he starts with your idiot tongue." She's well aware that The Twins can both understand her, but she couldn't even begin to care. The message is clear.

The Son hadn't even been looking at her as she'd threatened him, only able to fixate on her gloved hands against the table; that too was deliberate on Clementine's part, a particularly cruel attempt to make him feel guilty when he can't look her in the eyes. But when he does, when he looks up from her fingers splayed out wide and meets her gaze, he has no tells, expression carefully controlled. He seems unphased by her threat. For a moment his eyes roam her face, analysing her. He's drawing this out, toying with her. It seemed to be an inbred skill within their family, this capacity for a specialised kind of cruelty. The way his gaze deliberately then slides to Lemon first, then Tangerine sets Clementine's teeth on edge.

So she'd gladly fuck off.

"Feels wrong somehow," Lemon muses quietly, there's unease written all over his face. Clementine can't blame him, "are we just takin' her on her word here?"

"I don't have time for this," Clementine snaps, finally, "I'm going to get an earful from my charge if I'm not back before the next stop." She shoves at Tangerine's side, but he doesn't protest, sliding out and graciously making room for her to pass. Standing once more, she gives pause to rifle through her bag in case The Prince had sent her any kind of message. None.

"Seventh car, right Clementine?" Tangerine's tone is unreadable, looking at her expectantly. It's not a threat, but it is some sort of promise, of this being unfinished, of her still owing them an explanation. The anticipation is warmer than expected, not wholly unwelcome, but she'd never admit that out loud.

Her phone goes off. Uncanny timing from The Prince, just like always.

Instead of answering Tangerine, Clementine turns on her heel and leaves in the direction of the seventh car, answering the call with a brisque what.

"Tone, fruit fly," The Prince chides her with faint amusement. Clementine's unimpressed silence speaks volumes, and the young girl tsks for a moment before continuing, "you've left me alone far longer than I anticipated, you really are searching thoroughly." There's something about the way she speaks, so carefully casual that it sets off alarms in the back of Clementine's mind.

"What have you done?"

"I rather like the word 'shenanigans' now that I've had time to think about it."

"I'm heading back now; what did you do?"

"Did you find the money?"

"Answer the question."

"Really you need to work on your tone," again The Prince's inherent air of superiority bleeds through the phone and grates on Clementine's nerves, "if you haven't found it I'm not too concerned, I'll have a look myself later on. But I'm glad to hear you're headed back, as I've found myself," she takes a long moment to pause and Clementine picks up her pace instinctively, "caught up in shenanigans, I suppose."

"Ma'am." Through gritted teeth.

"Tone, fruit fly! Really!" And a sigh that was both far too blasé and far too dramatic all at once; The Prince's malicious theatrics left her frustratingly unpredictable at times like these, "anyways if you could, hurry back. There's a situation developing. I already know you won't like it, but it's not as if you're being paid to enjoy your job as much as you are to keep me safe in situations like this."

"Like what?"

As she's then promptly hung up on, Clementine picks up her pace almost past the point of acceptable on a train, once more lamenting why The White Death couldn't just have had at least one normal goddamn child.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine imagine #tangerine x oc #tangerine x reader #bullet train oc #tangerine bullet train x oc #bullet train 2022 #tangerine #tangerine x clementine #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine bullet train imagine #lemon #lemon bullet train #the son bullet train

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fixated-frenzy · 1 year

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Miraculous Characters in Need of Therapy

⚠️Spoiler Warning⚠️

The characters in Miraculous have been traumatized over and over again throughout the past five seasons, some more than others. Some characters needed therapy long before the show's events began and for those characters, the need has certainly become more prevalent.

With all that Monarch has put the city of Paris through, everyone could really use some counseling, but I'm just going to touch on the ones who need it most.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug

Despite growing up bullied by Chloe, Marinette's real need for therapy started after she became Ladybug. She may not be a "normal girl with a normal life," but she did used to be. Although Marinette never says it explicitly, she makes it pretty clear that sometimes she longs for the days when her biggest problem was Chloe giving her a hard time.

While Marinette loves being able to help people and protect Paris as Ladybug, she is under constant pressure and it's only gotten more intense throughout the series. She is always saving everyone else. She's saved everyone she cares about from akumatization and in the process shouldered the burden of their troubles on top of hers.

After the season four finale, Marinette now has even more trauma and anxiety weighing her down. She's scared of loving anyone out of fear of it being used against her and getting in her way of stopping Monarch. She's still scared of what happened in Chat Blanc and of losing Chat Noir. In the last four and a half seasons, Marinette has developed trust issues and anxiety that have continued to worsen overtime.

There have been many hints at what will happen when Marinette gives up her Miraculous. However, it's important to remember that when she does give up being Ladybug, she'll also be giving up her role as guardian. When this happens, she'll forget everything and while I dread thinking about her losing her memory, I do wonder if she'll also lose her anxieties or if those are now a permanent part of her psyche.

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir

I could make a whole post alone on why going to therapy would be good for Adrien and why he needs it, but for now I'm just going to hit the highlights.

Unlike Marinette, Adrien's psychological problems began long before he became Chat Noir. Adrien grew up with a loving mother who disappeared after being sick for a while. He grew up with a loving father too, but after his mom vanished, Adrien's dad became distant and unreliable. Adrien never had real friends growing up and didn't know life outside the walls of his home.

Adrien really started living when he began going to school and when he became Chat Noir. Being Chat Noir gives Adrien an escape and a chance to truly be himself. However, he does still face some of the same anxiety as Ladybug when he is battling villains. Chat Noir often worries about disappointing or failing Ladybug, which leads him to put more pressure on himself in the field.

When he's not Chat Noir, Adrien is busy balancing his other dozen responsibilities. Adrien is a people pleaser particularly concerned with pleasing his father. He pushes his limits on everything because if he doesn't, he knows he'll be ridiculed for it. Since Adrien never gets a break, he's never able to fully process or grieve any trauma he faces.

A part of being a people pleaser is feeling you can never open up to anyone when you're struggling because you don't want anyone to see you as "weak." We see this with Adrien when he is unable to tell his friends just how miserable he is as a model. Adrien knows he's loved, but he still can't help but keep things bottled up because that's what he's always been used to.

Adrien has gone through so much and has grown so accustom to trauma that therapy would be challenging for him. It would take a while before a therapist could get through to him and once they did, there would be a lot to sift through. But, Adrien would probably be much better off once he's been given a chance to comfortably open up and process everything he's been through.

Kagami Tsurugi

Kagami honestly deserves so much better. This girl has gotten the short end of the stick on everything. Her mom is horrible to her, she's in love with Adrien but he's in love with her best friend, and she always ends up as the middle man between Adrien and Marinette. Also, now she's apparently a sentimonster, which really caught me off guard.

Kagami is socially awkward and has a really hard time letting lose and being herself. She's introverted for sure, but she's also been heavily influenced by the harsh environment her mom raised her in. Kagami never got to be a kid or have friends. For so long, Kagami's mom was the only person she was able to have any kind of bond with, which was detrimental to Kagami's social skills and overall life satisfaction.

Since she has spent so much of her life with no ability to experience freedom, Kagami doesn't know how to be independent. She struggles with asking others for help and ends up letting people walk over her. Kagami's mom has always been in control, keeping Kagami from ever branching out on her own to make mistakes or learn anything that her mom doesn't push on her.

Nathalie Sancoeur

Nathalie is like an older version of Kagami, in my opinion. She honestly just wants the best for the people she loves and that often doesn't go in her favor. Like Kagami watching Marinette and Adrien fall for each other, Nathalie has stayed on the sidelines in support while she watched Gabriel and Emilie fall in love and start a family like she always wanted.

For so long, Nathalie and Gabriel were a team working together to get Ladybug and Chat Noir's miraculous. However, now that Gabriel has gone rogue, Nathalie is desperately trying to keep Adrien safe and far away from Gabriel. This added pressure as well as the deepening guilt and sorrow she feels have been crushing her this season, and for the first time, we are getting some real insight into Nathalie's background and emotions.

From the additional information we have learned this season, it has become more clear how severe Gabriel has been taking advantage of her. Out of all the people Gabriel has victimized, Nathalie's treatment has been among the worst.

As the plot thickens and Nathalie's health continues to get worse, I am interested to see how her story specifically plays out. Nathalie knows everything about Gabriel's history and madness, which means she could easily ruin him. However, it's unclear how bad the truth could hurt Nathalie and Adrien as well.

✨B

#miraculous #mlb #marinette dupen chang #adrien agreste #kagami tsuguri #nathalie sancoeur

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goosesister · 1 year

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I'm assuming most of us have seen that TikTok trend where a man asks the audience "WHICH NINJA TURLE ARE YOU?! *garbled shouting from the audience* WE CAN'T PODDIBLY ALL BE DONATELLO, IT IS NOT MATHEMATICALLY POSSIBLE! SOMEONE NEEDS TO BE THAT STUPJD RAT!" And people use that clip to reveal their assignments in the 'Your personality is this animal/character/mineral/vegetable/Greek god/whatever.'

That part isn't important. What IS important is THIS:

I do not know the source material for this audio clip, and I refuse to look it up because, and I kid you not, when I first heard it, this was my stream of consciousness:

Eddie Munson survived the demobats because Dustin had been researching/training in field medicine and first aide ever since Star Court when Jonathan had to perform what could very loosely be called field surgery on El's leg that El ultimately had to do herself, and that was more than a little traumatizing. But unlike fighting a creature from another dimension made from melted people, first aide was something he could actually prepare for.

So, Dustin decided he should go on a curiosity voyage, but dammit books just weren't good enough paddles this time! So, every other Tuesday, he's been making Steve drag him to the local hospital where they did basic first aide and CPR classes, and until they were both certified.

Now Dustin has the skills to tourniquet Eddie just enough not to die, but he's really waiting for Steve to get there because Dustin did alright in the classes it turns out this is Steve's calling in life. So, while Steve's still been able to take Dustin to classes twice a month, he's also been getting trained to be a certified EMT. Steve isn't done with training yet, but he knows enough to get Eddie stable enough to be transported through the gate, to the Creel House where Steve talks Nancy through keeping Eddie alive so he can get Max stable, and then get them both to the hospital.

Once they get there, of course, local small minds won't immediately treat Eddie because 'Oh my gosh a murderer that we have no actual evidence for but the word of what might be a budding psychopath/cult leader! They'll take the red-headed girl, but ew get the metalhead away!'

But you try arguing with a covered in blood and slightly feral looking Steve keeping Eddie's heart beating through sheer willpower alone while snarling "if you don't treat this man, not only will I report you to the medical board for breaking the hippocratic oath and get your licenses to practice medicine revoked, I will also have my father take the deed for this hospital, many of your homes, and your loved ones places of business and you'll be jobless and homeless by the end of the week!" While also being backed up by a group of teenagers that look like just army crawled through literal he'll and does that girl have a sawed off shotgun?!?

So they take Eddie to be treated, and Steve not only flat out refuses to leave but muscles his way into being in the surgical suite while they work. Just to make sure they're actually doing their job and not just pretending to do something.

Eddie survives, but he has a compromised immune system due to the demobats eating parts of his internal organs. He has to watch every cut and scrape for infections and be very conscious of his diet. He can no longer survive on weed, honeycomb, and spam.

Max survives, but she'll need crutches permanently and won't ever be able to skateboard like she used to ever again. Her eyesight might not be all gone, but she'll need to wear glasses for the rest of her life, and she'll most likely go blind before she's 50.

But they both recover.

Now, I don't know what happens in their big season 5 finale battle, but I DO know that the town never quite gets over their prejudice against Eddie. So Eddie keeps his head down, sticks with Steve, Robin, and the kids, and he and Wayne actually move into the Harrignton house. Steve actually forces keys into both their hands after he learns that the "earthquake" swallowed their trailer.

Steve's parents never have a problem with this because they never come back to Hawkins. They were hardly home for any significant amount of time after the Star Court mall burned down, but they decide not to come back from their work trip/vacation after the "earthquake" and have made Steve the deed holder to the house. The logic goes that when Steve's ready to leave Hawkins, and the market picks up, he can sell the house and add it to his trust fund.

Steve loves having Eddie and Wayne there because now his house is like a home and not like a hotel his parents sometimes check into for a week or two before leaving agian for months at a time.

Eddie loves being there because it's a safe place from the hatred of the other people and town, and all of his loved ones are either living there or constantly stopping by so he's never alone. And also the dining room table is big enough to spread out all of his DnD stuff out to make a permanent game board.

Wayne loves living there because there's enough space for his nephew to be himself and Wayne to have a little privacy. Not to mention, he loves Steve like another son because Steve saved his boy and knows just how good of a person Eddie is. A little while after moving in, Wayne insists on Steve calling him Uncle Wayne.

Robin never formally moves in, but she is there so much she might as well have.

So both Steve and Eddie stick around for another few years until all the kids graduate. They can't bear to separate from them all until the kids are ready to leave the nest.

Nancy had already left for college by this point. After breaking up with Jonathan Nancy goes to Northwestern and majors in journalism. Several newspapers are already courting her because who wouldn't want the young woman who exposed a government wide conspiracy that involved child expermintation and murder to come work for their newspaper?

Jonathan and Argyle set up another Surfer Boy Pizza in a town just outside of New York City so Jonathan can drive into to the city to go to NYU and major in photography, but he and Argyle can't take actually living there because in their own words "theres too many people there for the vibes to flow muchacho."

Robin hasn't decided which college she'll apply to yet and is sticking around her platonic soulmate until she's finished rigorously weighing all the pros and cons of each college in her mountain of possibilities.

After the kids graduate though Steve sells the house, buys Wayne a little house on the east coast near a quiet patch of beach, and buys a seriously tricked out Winnebago. Uncle Wayne allows the buying of the house if his boys promise to call once a week and spend Christmas under his roof.

So Eddie and Steve pack up the kids and their emotional support lesbian and spend the next year roadtripping across America. They all find something they need on this road trip:

El reunites with Kali/8 in Virginia. Kali has a different group of misfits, ones slightly less prone to violence, and they spend some weeks actually getting to know one another without a mission or the Upside Down or Papa looming in the background. They write letter and call each other every week.

Mike realizes he's idealized El in his head, and they break up in Arizona. They never got to actually be friends before becoming a couple and decide to start there. I don't know if they get back together, but they have a lifelong bond.

Will discovers queer safe spaces in New York City visiting Jonathan and Argyle, in San Francisco, and some other places in between. He knows he isn't bad or wrong or a freak now. And more importantly, he learns he isn't alone.

Dustin gets to see NASA headquarters while he watches a rocket launch he figures that despite Dart being an absolute shit show, which resulted in him never quite been able to tell his Mom what actually happened to Mews, he had loved the science and research of it all. He loved the rush of discovering a brand new thing. Now he's wondering if there's anything on Mars he might be able to keep in a terrarium.

Max gets to sit on a beach in California. She sits there in the sun all day until the tide comes in and then she breaks down in great heaving sobs and let's all her grief and tears for herself, Billy, and the relationship she wished they could have had into the waves and when the tide goes out again she feels some great weight is mostly gone out of her heart. Not all of it, she'll carry around a piece of it for as long as she lives, but enough. She has other brothers now and that's good.

Lucas makes a friend in every town they visit. He learns how to talk with Max and gets to know her while they aren't a couple. He discovers all he really wants to do it help people when they're going through a tough time He wants to know how to talk to Max without putting his foot in his mouth, he wants to know why Steve and Eddie get along when they have nothing in common, he wants to know how to keep Erica out of his room. He wants to know people. He decides on the side of a lake in Michigan that he's going to be a therapist and he's going to specialize in children.

Erica gets to tour parts of the capital in Washington D.C. and knows that the people in charge are doing an extremely terrible job. So she'll either be a Supreme Court Judge or President. She's having trouble deciding which one will give her better lasting power.

Robin finds her college in a diner in Tennessee. It wasn't a big moment, a waitress about her age admired Robin's nail polish while pouring her a cup of coffee, and Robin just knew that the college in Seattle was the one for her. Steve makes fun of her for years that all it took was a compliment from a pretty girl to make up her mind.

Steve gets to see the world. His parents didn't take him with them on their business trips of vacations while he was growing up. He's never been further than Indianapolis in his entire life. The dream he told Nancy about wasn't about her. It was about being able to breathe in a wide open space with all of his loved ones nearby. It was about being free with people you loved and who loved you in return.

Eddie slowly finds his music again. Corroded Coffin broke up after the Spring Break from Hell. They had tried for a while, but the other boys could sense Eddie had been through something major they couldn't relate to, and Eddie had never quite forgiven them for giving Dustin up so quickly. Eddie has plucked at his guitar but hasn't really picked it up and played since. Robin signs him up at every open mic night in every town they stop in, and Steve picks up the mission after they drop her off in Seattle.

Eddie's music is different now, he's grown and been changed by everything so he doesn't want to play only metal (metal is in there sometimes of course, but it's not all the time). His songs become a little more haunting, and the melody is a little slower than it would have been before, but the energy in the songs always build and build, and before the unsuspecting audience member knows it the song is over and they feel breathless from having to urge to dance to the music.

Eddie stops feeling like a hunted animal while being in public after his first encore at a bar in South Carolina in 1992. He starts feeling more and more confident with each encore in different bars from 1993-1997. In 1999, he's completely floored when a record agent practically throws their business card at him begging him to sign with their label.

Apparently, Eddie's become a bit of an urban legend. Eddie's now a mysterious figure drifting into town in and lighting up random bars for one night only. Apparently, no one had ever clocked that a Winnebago always showed up and left town at exactly the same time. Both Eddie and Steve are stunned that Eddie's left these kinds of reactions in his wake. The agent says they've never left a number, so no one's ever been able to catch hold of them to ask Eddie to sign. They both look at each other a little sheepishly then. Neither Eddie nor Steve have cell phones because they always call everyone every third day on various payphones. They do have a walkie for emergencies, but Dustin assured them that with his new and improved Cerebro, there isn't a place in the country they can go where the signal won't reach the walkie. So they've never really seen the need.

They follow the agent to LA and call up Erica to come look over the contract the label wants Eddie to sign. Erica isn't a lawyer yet, but she takes the contract for two days, comes back with the entire thing covered in pink glitter gel pen, and proceeds to milk that label for everything they're worth and a little more besides. Eddie has one of the most personally beneficial recording contracts in music history.

Steve is written into the contract as well. His official title is media liason and personal assistant. What Steve's title actually translates to is him making sure Eddie doesn't die by wandering off to get kidnapped by fans and charming/threatening reporters into giving Eddie a fair and flattering interview. A nosy reporter had tried to bring up Chrissy once. It was so unexpected, and the reporter had been so aggressive that it sent Eddie into a panic attack. After calming Eddie down, Steve preceeded put the fear of God into the reporter and then called up Nancy to get the reporter blacklisted in almost every news publication besides the reporters local Penny Saver. Word gets around after that, and now everyone knows that while Rockstar Eddie Munson is a bit weird, his assistant Steve is really the one to watch out for.

Steve's EMT training also comes in handy more often than not. Eddie's habit of walking on lunch tables has somehow mutated into an insatiable need to try and crowd surf by stage diving.

Steve outright bans Eddie from stage diving in 2004 after he fixes Eddie's dislocated pinky finger for the third time in as many months.

After the ban, Eddie needs something to fill the time in between songs, so he starts talking to the audience like they're all old friends. He tells them some of the inspiration behind songs, what his friend Dustin had sent him in the mail, what kind of cereal he likes, and so on.

It turns out this was the magic missing ingredient, and Eddie's music career skyrockets. Before he played music festivals, mid-sized venues, and popular bars. Now he's playing stadiums.

Eddie gains a whole new level of fame once everyone has a camera in their phone, and someone records him asking the audience, "WHICH NINJA TURTLE ARE YOU?!"

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sakis-sweets · 2 years

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Uh idk if you still do headcanons n stuff but can you make some for the shopkeepers of 1980s Mode? I really love them to death! It's alright if you can't

did i ever do headcanons for characters alone? i know there was a time when people asked my opinion on different pairings but idk about headcanons for characters all by themselves, but i can try! (they kinda talk a lot about familial/platonic/romantic relationships but i tried to keep it central to the character)

Hardware Store clerk: definitely a butch lesbian. her dad has a car shop and she probably got her scar in an accident while she was helping him out, and now he won't let her near a car out of guilt so she works at the hardware shop instead. she doesn't own that shop but she's on track to buy it from the owner when they retire, and then she'll give her dad a discount if he's still working. her mom is still in the picture she's just a daddy's girl. no siblings probably. she doesn't like cars that make a lot of noise, thinks it devalues the car.

Manga Store clerk: maybe bi with a preference for men? her family is probably embarrassed by her so she doesn't talk to them much. she's just happy doing her thing even if people look down on her. she finds friends in her comics so who needs the real world? of course her tune would change quickly if she found friends that would accept her but that is unlikely. her favorite genre is heart-wrenching slice of life stories like clannad, but she'd probably like angel beats too despite the supernatural elements. she doesn't judge other people because she doesn't like being judged, but she doesn't hold it against others for judging her either, because that's what's considered normal. she's just in her own little world not giving a fuck haha

Hair Salon clerk: no label bc she doesn't even think about things like that. she's probably a sociopath; pure logic, no empathy. she has some shallow friendships to keep up appearances and is in contact with her family. hair cutting is the easiest way for her to be in close contact with sharps without setting off alarm bells. murderous chefs are a common trope, but murderous hairstylists? definitely not. her parents want her to get married and she's considered it just for the sake of seeming normal but decided it would be too inconvenient and risky. i wanna say she lives vicariously through ryoba but didn't yandev say they fell out of touch after ryoba kidnapped jokichi? i don't strictly remember

Lingerie Store clerk: 100% straight but can never get a good guy. permanent rose-tinted glasses. good guys run because of her job (1980's Japan can't be all that sex-positive) but bad guys know she's easily exploited. her friends hear about her guy problems all the time but they don't give her advice (she ignores it) and are just there for her. she's the sweetest and nicest person in their group (but not the designated mom friend) so they're content to deal with her frequent breakups. her sense of style is impeccable and she likes to help her friends with buying clothes a lot. will she ever find true love???

Electronic Store clerk: married girlboss, childless bc she wants to focus on her career. she's very calm and makes people feel relaxed, i.e. more vulnerable to large electronic purchases. her husband is very proud of her but he does make more from his boring desk job so his ego is safe. she's the mom friend in the lingerie store clerk's group (another reason she says for not having kids: "i already have to raise my friend, we can have a baby once she marries a nice man") and is the least girly in the group, but only because everyone else is super femme. they've all been friends since college. very good at selling technology, not very good at working it or fixing it.

Game Store clerk: would probably be best friends with manga clerk, maybe more, but they never cross paths. also definitely a lesbian. very whacky/quirky, energetic, and because of that most people find her annoying and geeky and won't associate with her. she hosts DND and is a great dm; nerd guys think romantically of her when they meet her bc she's a nerd girl but quickly lose interest when they get to know her, so she has a lot of guy friends. she's not super concerned about meeting anyone romantically, she's just happy with her DND groups and her games. thinks she'll help pioneer a new generation of fine entertainment.

Convenience Store clerks: this is when i remembered mulberry made posts for all of the 1980's clerks and rushed to see if i had missed any canon info, luckily i didn't, except for these two, there actually is information but it seems to rely on pre-existing knowledge that i do not have. what twins in 202X is she referring to?? i think they're friends.

Gift Store clerk: very shy, trying to figure herself out. tries a new aesthetic every couple months but can never find the right one. hoping to find the perfect outfit that will magically make her confident and likeable. works at a gift shop to fund her expensive shopping hobby, but her parents also spoil her rotten and help her out. still lives at home, no higher education. hoping for a dramatic college debut once she finds herself.

hope these are alright!

#yandere simulator #yansim #1980's mode

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cassetteboy · 1 year

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So, I've been wanting to vent a little bit on here about some serious stuff, which I guess will double as letting some of my more distant friends know.

My mom passed away in her sleep rather suddenly, and I found her on April 17th morning. I've been going to therapy regularly, and trying to keep in contact with my support system and everything but man it's legitimately so hard. (Needless to say the rest of this will be talking about grief and stuff, so if you're not in the headspace for it, let's leave it at that.)

I don't think there could have been a death that would have impacted me more than hers, I feel emptied out and completely hollow. I've been posting stuff to vent my feelings out on grief-related subreddits but I dunno, it doesn't really help that much. It feels like a temporary fix. I wish I could express how this is the hardest thing that's ever happened to me, and that's saying something because I've had a very difficult life and lived through some horribly traumatic stuff.

I just feel terribly alone, despite knowing rationally that I'm not. I can't project myself in the future anymore and everything makes me think about her. I'm so pissed and depressed and bewildered and I still can't believe it's a real permanent thing and that this is my life now. She'll never see me turn 25, which will be my biggest win so far, and I wanted to share it with her because above all other people she knows how downright miraculous it is that I've lived this long with the life I've had. I don't really know where to go from here. I'm just gutted. I miss her so much already and it's not even been a month. We were so close and I loved her so much, she was such a great person and I don't know what I'm gonna do without her. I feel lonely, abandonned and helpless and I don't think there is anything that will stop me from feeling this way for a long while.

I don't think I ever spoke about her on here, or probably not to say nice things because our relationship was pretty tense and rocky while I still lived at her place, but she was a wonderful woman and I loved her.

Her name was Agnès. She was a nurse with way more extensive medical knowledge than a nurse ever had business having. She was curious and inquisitive and that made her a well of knowledge and wisdom. She was a creator, she wrote and drew and painted. She sang, too. She did theater, yoga, meditation. She was a great philosopher, and knew a lot about the human mind, psychology, human sciences. She had anger like a cyclone, and knew how to command respect like no one I know. She was sensitive, too, and compassionate, always ready to help people when she could. She adopted all my friends, and would pull through for them if they needed it. She was funny and witty, and we made each other laugh so much. She had great political views and was ready to learn more, and always listened and engaged with interest and a will to learn when I told her about political and social subjects she didn't know much about. She was supportive of everything, since the day I was born. She was the first person to know I was autistic, decades before I got a diagnosis. She helped me in my darkest hours and was, to be fair, the sole reason I stayed alive for many years, before I stopped surviving solely for other's sake. When I came out as trans, it took some getting used to but she learned and she loved me, and she helped me transition. She was always so proud to see me turn into the young man I was destined to be. She helped me get better, in day to day life. She would come with me to appointments when I was too scared to go alone. She would help me with administrative stuff because she knew I was bad at it. She would motivate me to get better and better, and she was so proud. I showed her my drawings, made her listen to my songs, read my poems. She was a good critic, with an analytic mind. She had a laugh you could hear from streets away. She was larger than life and beautiful and smart, and now she's fucking dead. And I could write a novel describing her, you wouldn't even come close to what it was knowing her. I can never do her justice, I can never describe her the right way. And I'm mad, I'm shattered, I'm sad. I want to curl into a ball and sleep until it doesn't hurt anymore.

I thought we had more time. There were still so many things to do and talk about, and now I'll never be able to know her opinion on anything ever again, and maybe that's what hurts the most. I don't think there's much more to say about it. I wish we could have gotten more time.

#vent #mourning #grief #I feel like absolute doodoo as you'd expect #cassette talking shit

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gucciwins · 3 years

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Are you Angel?

Harry gets hurt while on the job and Y/N gets a phone call she was not prepared for.

Word count: 7413

A/N: hello friends, it's been a while :) this is a continuation to my story Trouble Follows. You don't have to read but it will give you an insight of how Y/N and Harry met. I am thrilled to share more of firefighter harry with you. I adore him and I hope you do as well.

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

Warnings: angst, breakups, hospitals

A firefighter will always run into a burning building with not a hint of hesitation. All their focus is on saving the people stuck inside.

Running towards trouble is second nature to them.

She knew that.

She also knew what it meant to date a firefighter.

The unreliable hours, the non-frequent communication, the many failed dinner dates. The twenty-four hours shifts when he would then arrive home to just sleep.

Harry had begun to give her a constant comfort that he would eventually come home and climb into bed behind her. He would then gently nuzzle his face in her neck, taking in her sweet honey scent. In contrast, she took in the woody ashy smell that seems to be permanently stained on him.

So trust her when she said she knew what she was in for when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend.

Four months in, she knew she would be here for a long time, maybe forever, if life would allow it.

She was sure; she knew what to expect.

But she didn't, not until she got the call.

The call that would shatter her heart.

The call that would lead her to be sitting in this uncomfortable, ugly brown hospital chair, holding tightly onto his ashy hand. As she prayed on and on to a God, she no longer held close but wished for Harry they were real and would bring Harry back to her.

Y/N prayed for Harry to finally open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile that he would be okay.

That they would be okay.

Until then, she'll wait.

Harry being Lieutenant allowed him to have a consistent schedule. That did not mean there weren't days where he had to pull a double shift or stay back to finish paperwork; he let it pile up.

The one day that was Y/N's was Sunday.

She got him an entire day to lay in bed together and eat all the baked goods she baked for him to try. It was becoming their day. Everyone at the station knew Harry could not be disturbed on Sundays unless it was the end of the world, and even then, they'd have to pry him away from Y/N.

He feels safe in her arms. Harry had never felt that before. Sure, he was surrounded by his firehouse family, but he had never felt so loved in two arms as if she could take all his problems and stresses away. Still, she did exactly that when she would flash him her gorgeous smile and hold her arms open for him to fall into at the end of every day.

Harry knows he's never felt this way, and he won't ever take it for granted.

This Sunday will be different, and she feels it as soon as she wakes up because, in her queen-sized bed, she's alone. No arms wrapped around her waist; no head tucked into her necks as he places soft open kisses to wake her from her sleep gently.

Already, she knows this is going to be a bad day. She feels it in her bones. Having been around trouble for so long, she knows the difference between good and bad. The feelings she has made her want to find Harry and pull him back into bed where she can keep him safe.

Y/N gets out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off her body going to the bathroom to do her morning skin routine, wanting to feel refreshed for when Harry breaks the news; he's going to leave her alone on their day. She knows him well enough; he's cooking her breakfast to make up for leaving her so early in the morning.

She walks out of her bathroom, going straight to her closet and taking out the first sweater she saw. It's a baby blue color and stitched on the left side on top of her heart is: "love me please?" It's Harry's favorite sweater of hers because it's an oversized sweater that fits him well. The only reason she has it back is that he wanted her to wash it and wear it until it got her smell again. Y/N kissed him silly when he told her that, plus she loves that it smells like him now.

Y/N takes one look at her unmade bed and walks away, knowing she's going to crawl back in after Harry leaves her. She walks out and, from the hallway, can hear Harry humming away. If she's honest, she doesn't recognize the song. As she has come to learn, Harry has an interesting taste in music; he has basically heard every song ever to exist. It's a reason they are so good at Four Clovers Thursday Trivia night. She dominates pop culture and films, and Harry takes on music. She's also better at history than him. Their friends love trivia night because their winning always gets them free drinks. It's something she looks forward to each week.

"Morning, H," Y/N says as she approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around his waist. Harry smiles, instantly feeling warm with her arms around him.

"Morning, firebug. Sleep well?"

She mumbles a no, causing Harry to laugh, and she feels it vibrate through her.

"Awe, upset I wasn't wrapped around you." He teases. "I'm making up to you by making breakfast."

She pulls away, spotting blackberries on the counter. "Sure, Jan."

Harry can hear the change in her tone and knows she's still goofing off with him but knows she's upset.

"Angel, come sit. Coffee is ready."

She shakes her head but makes her way over to the chair he pulled out for her. "No coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." Y/N waits to see if he'll correct her, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry." He begins.

"No apologies."

"Please let me. I'm leaving you on our day." He pouts.

"As much as I don't want you to go, I'm sure they need you more than I do."

Harry frowns, "I hope you'll never stop needing me." He whispers against her lips before closing the gap. Y/N hums against his soft lips allowing herself to get lost in the moment; she loves his kisses, soft and gentle just as he is despite what his sharp eyes might have one believe.

Harry pulls away after pressing one final kiss on her pouted lips. "I'm sorry I have to go to work, but I know for certain that I can meet you for a late lunch."

"Lunch?" She repeats, arms wrapped around his waist, hoping he was serious with his offer.

He hums. "Yes, 2:30, that bistro with that avocado dressing you like for your sandwich."

"It's a date." She grins, laying her head on his chest letting him hold her tight. He unwraps his arms, letting her go.

"I've got to get going, firebug, but I'll see you later."

"Stay safe, Styles." She tells him as she does every time he leaves.

"Try my best, angel."

With that, he slips his beat-up white Vans with lilac laces and walks out the door; it shuts it behind him. Just as Y/N steps towards it to lock up, it opens back up, startling her. Harry steps back in, and before she can question him, he places both faces on the side of her face and kisses her breathless. Y/N is quick to react, allowing their lips to move in perfect harmony, not as smooth but perfect, nonetheless.

"I--" Harry begins before he clears his throat. "I'll miss you, angel."

Y/N feels the heat rush to her cheeks because, for a moment, she thought he'd say another three words. "And I'll miss you, H. Now get out of here; I don't need you showing up late to our lunch date."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display, hugging her before walking out a skip in his step. She peaks her head out, making sure he gets in the car safely before he drives off. He sits there for a moment, and she knows he is letting his Bluetooth connect as he waits for his drive-to-work playlist titled "it's time" to start playing. He takes a look at his mirrors before backing out and driving. That's when Y/N closes and locks the door.

Time to go back to bed for a few more hours; what else is there to do on a Sunday when she's left alone.

Harry genuinely did not want to go to work today, but it's not like he could say no to his Chief. His Chief was never one to call in favor unless it was an emergency. He didn't ask, knowing he'd get the full story Monday, but for now, he gets on his pants, t-shirt, and boots and hopes there are no fires today.

The only thing is that Harry isn't used to working with the B-shift, sure he knows everyone's name and a little of their lives, but they aren't his usual team. He shakes that off because he knows he would do anything to help a team member and knows they would do the same in return.

Harry is lost in thought, wondering what Y/N was going to do today. He knows she planned to take him to a butterfly pavilion today even told him the outfit she had planned out for it. A pair of jeans that had flowers embroidered all over something she added, saying she thought they looked a bit plain, pairing it with a pastel pink top. Harry was surprised with her style after meeting her various times in different outfits. He was surprised at how soft she dressed in pastels. She may have a bold personality, but her fashion was delicate and warm. It was a nice balance.

He nearly runs into Carols as he made his way to his office, too busy thinking of the girl he left at home. "Sorry, bud."

"No problem, Harry. Surprised to see you here," Carols tells him, everyone knowing Sunday was Harry's day off.

"Chief had something come up and asked me to come in. I should be out of here by eight tonight if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles, "with you around, we usually are."

Harry chuckles, telling him he'll be in his office if he needs anything. He looks around his desk and sighs at how much has piled up already.

Might as well get ahead.

It's a few hours when Harry realizes the house is quiet. He peaks around the window and figures they are all in the common room. It's only one, and thankfully there have been no calls, and if it continues, then he will make it to lunch with his angel.

He shoots her a text.

Angel

13:24 PM

I miss you. Counting down the minutes until I get to see you xxx

Harry clicks send and smiles down at his phone. 2:30 couldn't come fast enough.

As he gets up to stretch and go for a snack in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath because as confident as he may seem, he isn't around the second shift. They don't know him so well, and Harry ultimately is shy. He may be able to hide it, but he has small quicks that others pick up on. Something he knows Y/N spotted quickly, like when he toes his foot into the ground or when he begins to chip at his nails, and Y/N's favorite is when he moves his hands behind his back and sways side to side. She finds it endearing, but others might not think it's leadership material.

He walks into the lounge to cross to the kitchen when a few heads turn to him, but before they can say a word, the alarm rings, and Harry is literally saved by the bell.

Not a second to waste, everyone heads over to the rig and quickly suits up. Harry is Lieutenant meaning he's in charge of the scene today, seeing as their captain and Chief aren't here today. Harry respects all the firefighters and knows this will go well if everyone carries out their job.

It's a factory fire, and as soon as they arrive, Harry can see it's burning fast. He's not sure how many people are there, but he calls in for reinforcements knowing they will need all the manpower they can get.

"This is House 102; please send more units available. The factory fire is burning at a faster rate than we can control. My team is going in now. There are five people unaccounted for; the left side of the building is clear." Harry speaks into his two-way radio.

"Carlos," the young firefighter jogs over, eyes on Harry, no longer staring at the roaring fire. "You're going in with Baz. Stay close and don't go up the second floor; you need to be quick in and out."

"Who's going with you, Lieutenant?" Carlos asks, clearly worried.

"Jameson and Rey are coming with me; stay safe, and if anything happens, just radio in."

"You got it!" Harry pats his shoulder and walks off towards the two waiting men.

Harry knows the men well, he trained them when they came into the house, but they preferred B-shift instead of being with him. One spot was available, and he knew they didn't want to be separated. Rey and Jameson have been dating for two years, but that's a secret only very few know. It's not prohibited, but if it gets more serious, one will have to relocate to a new station. They simply aren't ready for that, and indeed Harry would be sad not to have them around the house or hearing their stories. It just adds a more considerable risk because, at the end of the day, the job is first.

Rey walks towards the entrance with Harry following right behind. Jameson, a few feet back, calling out for anyone in there that needs help.

"Fire department, call out." Echoes out as much as it can as the fire begins to roar louder.

The heat gets worse the further they walk in; they turn right at the edge of a desk labeled "Torres."

"H, there!" Rey shouts, rushing over to a man knocked unconscious and had heavy storage struck over his legs, pinning him down. Harry and Jameson run over, assessing the man before making any sudden moves.

Jameson finds a pulse, weak but there. He gets the extra mask over the man's face hoping it'll wake him up soon.

"On the count of three, we lift," Harry tells the two men standing to a stand as the others do the same.

They nod. "One, two, three." They grunt in unison, pushing the container to a standing position. Harry looks over the man's legs and is thankful there is no blood, but there will be swelling and bruises. "Right, Rey, take him out. We'll keep searching."

Rey nods, lifting the man over his shoulder as he was trained to do, and rushes out of the burning building. Harry and Jameson have just learned a new area when the radio comes on. "Lieutenant Styles, it's Carlos. We found two men; only one remains unaccounted for."

Harry nods. "Got it, no one comes back in. We'll be out soon."

He now leads the way, making his way towards a stairway. There's no fire here, but it's moving faster, and smoke is thick. Whoever is in here might not last much longer without oxygen.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts, voice firm.

"Here.." a whisper is heard, both Harry and Jameson freeze. Once more, "here" is yelled but sounds muffled.

Harry looks around, not seeing anything but fire, and fears the structure will collapse soon. Just as he was about to yell again, he sees a can knocked, and a man hidden under a black rag is seen. Jameson rushes over, helping the man sit up. He's older, well into his sixties. He doesn't look too well; he has a few scapes.

"Right, we need to head out," Jameson tells Harry, helping the man stand up who is fighting consciousness.

"This is Lieutenant Styles; on our way out found the last man. Have paramedics on standby."

"Got it, Styles. Get out quick."

Jameson and Harry get the man up and head to exit. Harry can see the light of day and knows he will be late for lunch, but thankful Y/N is understanding and very forgiving. He'll make it up to her by buying dessert.

Just as they almost reach the door, a piece of dry wood comes falling down, separating Harry and Jameson; luckily, it did not hit them, but now Harry has to find a new way out. It's not looking good.

"Harry," Jameson looks panicked, but Harry stays calm.

"Get him out, now," Harry tells him, looking in every direction for what to do.

"No, I won't-" Harry cuts him off.

"Jameson, get this man out. He needs medical attention. That's an order." Voice full of authority with no room to argue.

Jameson nods and heads out. "I'm coming back for you."

Harry chuckles. He sees a small path, but it'd be a more extended way out. He debates what to do. He could wait, but the longer he stays, the quicker this building is beginning to collapse.

It takes him two seconds to decide to go right and find a new route out instead of staying put. He walks and only gets hotter as the fire begins to surround him. He's good at not panicking, always thinks better under pressure, but this is getting intense. Harry climbs over a crate and bends low to go through this tight space. He sees the exit, it's still a bit away, but he knows he is in the clear.

That's when he hears a big explosion knocking him forward. His oxygen masks flys off, landing a few feet away. As Harry reaches his hand out to get it, he's pulled back. He looks behind and sees he's stuck. There are crates stacked on top of him. The air is thick of smoke, and with no oxygen, it seems like the fire will soon enough engulf him.

Shit.

He's really in trouble now.

Harry presses his radio, holding it, hoping it's still working. "This is Harry," He coughs. "I'm trapped under a few crates. I can't reach my ask. I'm west of the building."

"Harry, hold on. We're going in." Harry hears Jameson reply, but he's fading quickly.

He shakes his head. "Can't go to sleep, but this smoke is too thick to actually see anything, let alone for his team to find him.

"Tell…" He coughs again, and this time doesn't stop for what feels like five minutes but is only a few seconds. "Tell angel, I'm sorry."

A voice comes over the speaker, but Harry's eyelids are fluttering shut, the weight of the crates is too much, and the smoke only gets deeper in his lungs if he keeps speaking.

Harry welcomes the darkness as he sees the one person he was supposed to meet for lunch. She's holding an outstretched hand for him to take and who is he to ever say no to her.

Real or not, he goes to her, and soon enough, he falls unconscious, not feeling when his team lifts him out and puts him in the back of an ambulance.

Y/N decided to show up a bit earlier for their lunch date, putting in their order early, wanting to maximize all their time together. She wouldn't see him until late that night, and honestly, she wasn't a fan of being separated on her favorite day of the week.

She sits on a bench right outside, both sandwiches wrapped tucked away in a brown paper bag and a lemonade sitting next to her untouched. It was his favorite, too sweet in her opinion. Still, Harry loved it, especially since he wasn't one to indulge in sweets unless they were hers.

Knowing Harry could be running late, she pulls out a book from her orange tote bag that Harry gifted to her. The book was Beach Read, Frankie recommended it to her then gave her the book saying she needed to read more romance books and not just poetry and nonfiction books. She actually enjoyed it, which surprised her, but even if she didn't, she's too invested to not find out the ending.

She was just starting chapter five when she feels too much time has passed and glances down at her phone.

2:55

25 minutes late isn't bad or unusual even; she decides to put the book away and keep an eye out for him. Usually, when he keeps her waiting, he makes up for it with a long kiss that never fails to take her breath away; she's excited about it now.

Time seems to go slower when she just sits waiting. She debates beginning to eat her sandwich when her stomach starts to growl. It's low, but she would feel bad if she began to eat, and that's when he shows up. She settles for waiting and instead takes a drink of the sweet lemonade.

As Y/N sits waiting for Harry, her phone begins to ring and displays an unknown number but the city's area code. Every bone in her body tells her to prepare for the worst but hopes she's paranoid.

She takes a deep breath before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, are you angel?" A deep voice man asks.

"It's Y/N. Actually, can I ask who's calling?" She's holding her breath; only one person calls her angel.

"I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Harry Styles. Harry has been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. He asked us to call an angel on his way to the hospital. We assumed you were one of his emergency contacts."

Y/N feels her hands begin to shake. "What hospital?"

The man on the phone rattles the information, and she lets it all sink in. He hangs up, and she sits there waiting on the bench for her date that will not be showing up.

Her phone rings again, she answers without looking at the caller.

"Y/N," she recognized the voice; it's Mitch, and if he's calling, then it must be true.

"Mitch," she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. It's shaky, tears beginning to well up.

"Where are you?"

"At the bistro a street down from the station." She replies, hoping he's coming for her.

"I'm close; we'll pick you up and go see him, darling." She nods but remembers he can't see her.

Y/N isn't sure why she's not crying. She feels the tears, but it's like they are stuck; her heart hurts, and she knows that says enough. "We were supposed to meet for lunch. I got worried when he didn't show up, but I didn't think--" he interrupts her.

"Harry is going to be fine, trust me. He's okay, and he needs us there."

Y/N doesn't reply because she sees him pulling in. Mitch is in the passenger seat, Sarah is driving. She doesn't say a word as she swings open the door and settles in the back.

She sets her hands in her lap; she can feel herself trembling. She can feel herself breaking because she won't know if he's okay until she sees him. Mitch can say he's fine, but she needs to see for herself.

Sarah and Mitch share a concerned look; Y/N doesn't notice her eyes looking out the window.

"Y/N?" Mitch begins, voice full of concern. "Do you- are you okay to go see him?"

"Of course." She replies quickly. "He needs me; well, I hope he does."

"Course he needs you. Needs his angel by his side." Sarah tells her calmly, wanting to see her smile, but it doesn't work because only Harry should be calling her that. She shouldn't be on her way to see him in a hospital bed. She should have seen him next to her on that bench as he ate his sandwich and gave her kiss and kiss as she told him stories.

They are silent the rest of the way. Sarah pulls into an empty parking space, and she rushes after Mitch, who seems to know exactly where Harry is as he rushes past the front desk. The only thing that slows them down is waiting for the elevator; she gladly would have taken the stairs if Mitch didn't tell her that he's on the sixth floor. Instead, she waits impatiently for the old elevator that will take her to see her love.

He is going to be okay. He has to be okay. Y/N keeps those thoughts running through her head as Mitch and Sarah guide her to room 613.

Mitch walks in first, holding the door open, Sarah places a comforting hand on her back, and Y/N feels supported and loved, but nothing prepares her for what she is about to walk into.

The constant beep of Harry's heart monitor is the only thing that can be heard in his private room. The beep is steady; it makes her let out a deep breath. The monitor already calming her down, she approaches slowly as if he'd wake if she'd walk any faster.

She sits in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed and pulls it as close as she can.

Y/N just stares at him, taking it all in. He looks like he's resting peacefully like he should originally have been when they started this day together. His curls are disheveled, his face dirty with smoke stains and a few gauzes wrapped around his arms. She can't see much else but knows he's got a road of recovery still ahead of him.

"Hi, Harry," she whispers, her hand slowly reaching under the white sheet to grab hold of his right hand. "I'm right here, okay. Take your time waking up; there's no rush. Just know that I'm not going anywhere."

She pauses, hoping for a reply even though she knows she won't get one. "We can also discuss how I'm sort of one of your emergency contacts."

Y/N presses her lips to his hand. "Need you to wake up, want to see those Rapunzal eyes." She sits back, not removing her hand from his. Sarah has not taken her eyes off of her, Sarah might feel like she might blow up soon, but being at his side, she has begun to feel better.

"Harry, we're here for you. The whole team is outside in the lobby, probably why they sent us to the floor with the biggest waiting area. Even young Carlos is out there, saying you gave them a scare but really hopes you never pick up another B-shift again." Mitch sniffles before stepping out of the room. Sarah walks over to where he was standing.

"Hey Harold, it's trivia night in a few days, and kind of counting on you to get us those free drinks." Sarah chuckles. "It's been a while since we've been in the hospital. I think it was when I made you all donate blood for that ambulance competition. Fun times, now you rest and get better. The good thing is you have the best nurse looking out for you." Sarah glances at Y/N, sending her a small smile.

Y/N sits back in her chair as Sarah sits in one by the window. She knows she's in for a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Harry's head is throbbing.

He's not sure why. The last he remembers is leaving Y/N's house to go for his shift at the station.

They were meeting for lunch; he's sure she wouldn't let him drink any alcohol on the job.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and is blinded by the bright light. He sees a photo of the sunset right in front of him, and a tv hung up; if he's not mistaken, he's in a hospital room, primarily due to being in an uncomfortable bed. The oxygen mask over his face is also a dead giveaway he was in an accident.

He looks around, and he sees he is not alone. His angel is sleeping, a tight grip on his right hand; she looks exhausted. Mitch walks in just as Harry was about to wake her. Y/N mumbles and sits up, pulling her hand away from his to rub the sleep away. Harry wants to tell her to stop knowing how much it actually irritates her eyes, especially when she tubs a little harsher than usual.

"Were you able to find tea, Mitch?" Y/N asks, looking over at him.

"Sarah's bringing it over." Mitch's gaze never turns to her staying on Harry; this confuses Y/N and turns back around in her seat to look at a resting Harry but instead finds his eyes on her.

"Harry!" Y/N scoots forward, grasps his hand in hers. "You're awake. Mitch, the nurse, please."

Harry raises his free hand to take off the mask. He wants to speak, but this won't allow him. "No, love. Got to keep it on."

Harry's eyes close, then flutter open. He stares at Y/N, his eyes kind but defiant. He takes the mask off, coughing a bit; it makes Y/N feel nauseous, knowing he's not doing so well.

"I think you need to keep it on, Harry." She says, "the nurse needs to see it when she comes in soon."

"Hey, angel," he says in a raspy voice. It sounds like he's in pain when he talks.

"Yes?" She asks.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Y/N shrugs, "no big deal. I wasn't even scared."

Harry smiles, showering her his dimples since she last saw him this morning. He begins to laugh but stops when it causes him to cough. Y/N lets him settle down before bending down to gently kiss him.

"Now, let that hold you over, and put the mask pack on."

Harry nods. "Anything for you, my angel."

It's a half-hour before the doctor comes in, and by that time, Harry had fallen back asleep, only just waking up a few minutes before the man walked through the door. Mitch alerted everyone outside he was awake and doing good.

Dr. Vazquez walked white coat open, displaying a purple button-up and a bright yellow tie. It puts a smile on Y/N's face.

"Hello, Mr. Styles. Glad you're awake."

"Me too, Doc. Nice tie."

Dr. Vaquez smiles, looking down at himself, "Thank you, my wife picks out my tie every morning before she heads off to work."

"Lucky man," Harry tells him.

"That I am." Dr. Vazquez replies. "You've got a mild concussion, nothing serious, but you are allowed to sleep while you're here. We've got a good team looking out for you. You've got a few burns, but those will heal nicely if properly cared for. A few deep bruises on your leg and one on your rib cage, no blood clots. It will hurt to walk for a few days."

"Nothing too bad, then," Harry sighs, relaxing in bed.

"I've looked at your charts, and it looks like you will be making a full recovery and should be back on the job in three or four weeks. In the meantime, you will need to stay overnight and keep taking in oxygen. I see the nurse changed your mask. Please don't remove this one." Harry nods. "Any questions?"

Harry shakes his head no, "Not at the moment."

"Alright, I'll be off then. I'll come to see you tomorrow midday, and we'll talk about going home. I hear you have a waiting room full of people dying to see; just be aware that visiting hours end at nine, but if you're kind to Nurse Lucy, she'll be lenient to ten."

"Thank you, Dr. Vazquez." Mitch and Y/N say in unison as the man exits the room.

"That's the quietest I've ever seen you, firebug." Harry teases.

"You hush." She lightly pats his arm.

Mitch laughs, "going to go tell them you're allowed, visitors."

Y/N and Harry sit in silence. He can tell she has something on her mind, a slight frown on her face. He wonders if it's about him if she won't be able to handle dating someone who can be hurt by the job. Harry honestly does not want to lose her.

"I'm going to step out," Y/N tells him, looking down at their joined hands, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," Harry sighs.

"You've got lots of people waiting to see you and roughly have an hour to see them all. I'll be close by." She leans down, presses a kiss to his cheek, and walks out before he can reach out to stop her.

She steps out while a few members of his team come in to see him offering her a smile as she passes them. As much as she didn't want to leave him, she needed a moment away, and he needed a moment with his family.

God, Y/N has never felt so scared, and now a minute alone, everything is beginning to set in. She has no idea where the restroom is, and the next thing she knows, she's running into someone, but it seems they recognize her because they say her name, and the next thing she knows, she's crying, sinking to the floor. She feels arms wrap around her.

Shushes in her ear, brushing the ends of her hair. It's calming, but she needs to let all the tears she's been holding in.

"Y/N," she can now recognize the voice as Sarah's, "I'm going to help you stand and sit you in the chair.

Y/N feels herself nod.

She begins taking deep breaths, never letting Sarah pull her hand away. It is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I got her some water." Y/N hears Frankie whisper handing it to Sarah before taking the seat to the left of her.

"I'm okay," she repeats. "I'm okay."

"Y/N," Sarah begins.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetie." Frankie brushes her hair back.

"I'm supposed to be strong; I have to be strong to do this to stand by his side," Y/N tells them, beginning to let her emotions out.

"No one is expecting you not to cry."

"Bu-" Sarah interrupts her.

"No. stop. Accidents happen, and so do injuries. It's okay to be scared and hurt."

"I want to be strong for him." She whispers.

"You are. You never left his side; you talked to him. You're crying now because you care."

She wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeves. "I love him, and I was so scared that when I got the call, I'd never get to tell Harry."

"Then you tell him as soon as you walk back into his room."

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank, I care about you, and I know Harry would be grateful to know you're not alone. You've always got us. Now let's grab something to eat, and we'll come back in an hour once all of them go home."

She chuckles. "Alright."

"Text me where you're sitting. I'll pop in to see Harry, then meet you."

"You don't have to," Y/N tells Frankie because she knows she is just as concerned about her friend.

"Are you kidding me? You're my friend first, always."

Sarah and Y/N walk down to the cafeteria. She knows she isn't okay but is feeling better, finally letting emotion out. It was only a matter of time before she let the dam break; she's just happy it was not in front of Harry.

The girls sit in the cafeteria munching on snacks for well over an hour. Mitch sends them a message letting them know all the crew has left and it's time to say goodbye for the night. Frankie wishes her goodnight downstairs with promises to come to see her tomorrow and bring her a change of clothes.

"Let's walk you back," Sarah tells her, linking their arms together.

"Do you think he'll know?" Sarah takes a good look at her and grimaces. "I'll just say I tripped, and it made me cry." Y/N jokes.

"I don't think he'll believe that."

"Yeah, me either." The girls walk out of the elevator as their laughter dies down.

They settle in silence as they make their way to his room, Sarah holding her hand leading the way. Mitch is in the chair she was in for so many hours before waiting for him to wake up. Mitch hears their footsteps and turns his head, but Harry is frowning, looking out the window at the dark sky.

Y/N doesn't know what to say, but one look at him has her heart filling up with relief; he's okay.

He's fine, and he gets to go home soon, and she gets to love him all she wants.

Harry turns his head as she steps forward. "Angel," he breathes out.

It makes her eyes well up with tears again. "I love you," she just lets it out, as if she's told Harry this every day as if she never went a moment not saying it.

"Oh my angel," Harry begins to cry, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly happy. His angel loves him, and although this isn't a perfect day, the moment is.

Mitch and Sarah sneak out quietly, shutting the door behind them to give them their privacy.

"I love you so much. Please come here." Harry replies, voice shaky.

In the next second, she's moving forward, pulling the chair as close as she can as he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly. She leans down and presses her lips to his chapped pink lips. They move gently, pouring all their love and fears into the kiss. Telling each other that the worst is over and they are together, and they are fine. Y/N pulls back, knowing she can't kiss him as long as she'd like due to his sensitive lungs.

"Harry, I love you, and I was so scared I'd never get to say it."

"I'm sorry, angel; I never wanted you to get a call like this, at least not before talking about it."

"Me either," She sniffles, no longer able to control her tears, "but it happened, and I'm just happy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he repeats. She smiles, taking one of her hands out of his hold to wipe his tears away; Harry can't help but lean his head into her gentle touch. "I'm okay because my angel is always looking after me.

"Harry."

"It's true. I've never been luckier and safer since you came into my life." She smiles. "But there's something we have to talk about." He continues, and by the tone of his voice, it's going to be serious.

"Are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine. You're the one in a hospital bed." Her tone is defensive.

"There's something wrong. I can see it."

Y/n sighs, taking a deep breath. She takes her hand out of his hold.

Harry is quick to mask his hurt.

"I don't like that you're hurt. I hate that we aren't at home in the kitchen dancing around to your Sunday playlist as I bake you a new treat." She says in a rush.

"Hey, love, relax," he says and gestures for her to move in closer. She does so, allowing him to take hold of her hands with a firm grip this time.

"You're upset because I got hurt?" She nods in reply to his question. It's stupid because, of course, he's going to get hurt; it'd be naive to think he wouldn't in his job.

"It's part of the job." He says simply. It's something he wants her to accept and remember. She thinks back to a month into dating when he told her about his ex-girlfriend and how she couldn't handle the unknown of the job each day he left her. Y/N thought she'd be fine, but she loves him, and losing him would be something she could never recover from.

"I know. It's just not easy to see." Her voice was quiet and defeated.

"What do we do?" Harry asks, and Y/N freezes; she can feel her heart beating in her ears.

What do we do?

"What do you mean?" She can feel her hands begin to shake.

"This can happen again." He gestures to him in the hospital bed.

"I know." She says softly.

"Is this something you can handle or not?" He asks very direct. She knows this might not be the first time he's had the conversation, but she just told him she loved him, and he's questioning her. She's allowed to feel this way, but it doesn't mean she can't handle it.

"Y/N," he begins, "I'm incredibly happy with you. I see you and me together for a long time. You're it for me, but this job is my life."

"I know," she repeats. "I would never ask you to give up your job."

Harry stares at her; heartbreak passes through his eyes. "Are you asking me to give you up?

She shakes her and begs for the tears not to fall, but it's no use. She feels them falling and can't wipe them as Harry has a hold of her hands.

"Harry, I love you." He frowns as if fearing the worst. "I love you, and I'd rather love you every moment I have you than let you go now and never know what could have been."

"Oh, thank god." Harry lets out a deep breath. She giggles. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this conversation earlier; honestly, I feared if I brought it up, you could possibly break up with me, and I selfishly wanted to have you longer."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, not if it's up to me. Seeing you laid up is hard but knowing I get to be there for you makes up for it. Also helps that I'm a nurse."

"That it does."

Y/n grins at Harry, leaning in to kiss him, short and sweet for now. Each kiss never fails to make her heart race, and due to Harry's heart monitor, she knows it does the same to him. They sit in silence, staring at each other as Harry traces small shapes against Y/N's cheeks, loving the feeling of her in his hand. Especially when she lets out a soft giggle when he hits a sensitive spot.

"Move in with me," Y/N blurts out after a while of silence.

It shocks Harry. "What?"

"Until you're better. That way, I can be your in-home nurse."

"Only until I'm better?" She nods. "So, you'll give me the boot after." Harry teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks warming up but pushes through, "Only if you're a bad patient."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display for her, always for her. "Okay, I can be good and naughty only when you ask."

"Harry!" She gasps.

He throws his head back, laughing.

"God, I'm so lucky to love you." His words warm her heart, and she promises to tell him every day from now on.

"Now get up here and cuddle me. I got Mitch to cue up Netflix."

"Are you sure?" She stands slipping her shoes off, knowing he won't be taking no for an answer.

"Going to deprive an injured man of what he wants most?"

"Guess not."

"Good."

Y/N crawls on and lays on his side, carefully resting her head on his chest. Harry presses kiss after kiss for his comfort, knowing he will be okay and has his favorite person by his side. She chooses Legally Blonde knowing it's Harry's comfort movie as much as he tries to deny it.

For an unusual start to their Sunday, it ends right; together in bed, a hospital bed but nonetheless a bed, together arms wrapped tight around each other.

Y/N might not have liked that Harry got hurt, but he's okay, and he will recover.

That's all she could ever ask for.

thank you so much for reading!

please send me a message of what you thought or if you'd like to see more firefighter harry

I adore you. take care xx

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles ou #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #firefighter!harry #harry fanfic #harry fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #my writing

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

Text

Second Love

"You can't be serious," Superhero said, staring holes into Superhero Leader's writing hand as they scratched out the newest list of assignments. "You're promoting her? Leader, she never should have stopped being a sidekick. Now she's botched up every crime fighting assignment for the last five years, and you're giving her one of the most serious threats in the city?"

Leader responded evenly without looking up from his desk. "She's determined and her heart's in the right place."

"With all due respect, sir, wanting to be useful has never equated with actually being useful. And we're not sure her anything is in the right anywhere; she's been blown up like 14 times. She may never show a scratch, but as far as I'm concerned, she's scrambled."

"She's indestructible. That's more than can be said for the last...hmm..." Leader pulled open a drawer and picked out a crisp report sheet. "Ten heroes assigned to Villain. Lots of fire. Lots of broken bones. I think we actually got a note from him. Something about staying out of his life because he was 2 hours away from perfecting torture?"

Superhero gaped at him. One deep breath later, she slapped both hands on Leader's desk. "She'll be eaten alive! It took her two years to take down Sir Redo-Rewind. To give you an idea of his level, he calls himself Sir Redo-Rewind. I can't in good confidence recommend Hero for any major assignments. The collateral damage alone--"

"I don't care if she breaks Villain's stuff," Leader interrupted. He set down his pen and wove his fingers together as a tent on his desk. "I don't think we're on same page. You're concerned that Hero isn't qualified to put Villain behind bars or take him out permanently, but I don't expect Hero to win."

Superhero furrowed her brow. "Then...why?"

"Villain's working on something, and as long as he's traumatizing my heroes and making them quit, he has time to work on it. Hero won't win, but she also won't quit. And with her power, I don't have to worry about another hero getting seriously hurt. She's just the distraction we need until we find a more permanent solution. He wants to concentrate? Well let's see how concentrated he is with someone crashing into his face every day."

Superhero sighed. "I get it. I don't like it. But I get it."

"Good. Now would you mind, running Hero through high-profile orientation? And let's not mention the real reason for this promotion, alright? She'll work best if she treats this like any other assignment."

"Yes, sir."

***

"Villain?" Hero said, cocking her head at Superhero. "The villain who wanted to reform Villain?

She hadn't batted at an eye at the new assignment, her biggest reaction a slight perk of her head. Her eyes stared into Superhero's face hollowly. Ugh, was there even anything going on in there?

Sometimes she wondered if Hero's head was empty. Not that she thought Hero was stupid, she definitely wasn't that. It wasn't just her head, her entire body seemed empty. Less of a person, and more a marionette. One face, a body without pain, always moving, never stopping, even, no, especially, when that movement was clumsy and awkward. Not emotionless, but hard to read. She wasn't like anyone else.

"He didn't reform," Superhero said bitterly. "What? You don't want it?"

"No, I'm incredibly flattered and excited," Hero said.

Yeah, I can tell.

"I'm just surprised. Wasn't Villain engaged to Other Superhero two years ago? Aren't there heroes who knew him personally that would be better choices?"

A shock ran up Superhero's spine, and she felt her tone involuntarily stiffen.

"Yeah, well, Other Superhero is dead. That was the end of that. Villain got worse. He terrorized everybody. And I mean everybody, and now he's turning everyone we send against him to chum while he does who knows what. You don't blow up, so if your fine with the assignment just go do it."

For the first time in the conversation, Hero's eyes sparked. "So what you're saying is I'm the best person for this job."

"Yeah, sure."

Hero clenched her fist and gave a resolute nod. "Then you can count on me."

***

Villain knew what to expect the moment the window hinges creaked. A new hero. Another leech from the filthy league. He didn't care what they said. Everything was their fault. And as long as they sent heroes to be hurt, he was happy to oblige. Maybe he'd been too lenient on them, giving them wounds they could recover from. They'd never granted him such favors.

He swept down the corridor, ready for violence, ready for blood, ready for shattering bones and ripped limbs and--

His thoughts cut off as the hero's foot caught on the sill as she moved to leap down, sending her careening headfirst into the ground with a concerning CRACK! For half a second he wondered if she'd killed herself on her own, but then the hero scrambled to her feet and, as she spotted him across the room, dropped into a fighting stance. "I'm your new nemesis, Villain! Prepare for battle!"

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to ignore that?" Villain said. Did she happen to have a concussion?

"Ignore what?" Hero deadpanned.

"What just happened."

"What happened?"

"You falling on your face!"

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I--? You can't just pretend nothing happened! I saw it!"

The Hero continued to stare at him like he was the one talking nonsense, then she jutted her chin up proudly. "Enough talk, let's fight."

Fine. Villain didn't need to show mercy. He'd rather not talk with the enemy if he could help. Made it easier to hurt them.

He ran straight at her, surroundings blurring in his peripheral. His arm warmed as he gathered up the momentum for a massive strike with his superspeed. He was within a foot of punching Hero's face when he skidded on a smattering of broken cement. He ended up passing the hero by, barely slowing himself before he bashed his head in on his own lair wall. He rested both palms against the wall for a couple moments, catching his breath. When he was convinced he was safe, he looked down at the cracks sprouting out in a circular shock beneath the window.

"Where did this even...? Wait, did you do this? Did you break the floor with your face?"

"I said, let's fight!" the hero said, taking a challenging step towards him directly on top of another piece of concrete that sent her legs flying out from under her.

Author's note: I got a little lazy near the end cause I got tired of writing haha. I wanted to create some background first, but if I ever continued it, it would be more about Villain and Hero's dynamic. Just a hero who sucks at being hero but is 100% serious about her work with a bitter villain stuck in his grief for the death of his past superhero fiancee but is intrigued by this hero who doesn't seem to know what the heck they're doing.

Part Two

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #second love #dead hero #I'm such a sucker for second love stories #hero #villain #incompetent hero x professional villain #Hero isn't even a rookie #she just sucks at being hero

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crashdevlin · 3 years

Text

Leftoverture 3- Carry On

Author’s Note: Don’t get me wrong, I loved the finale, but I was thinking about how much I miss Dean and I couldn’t stop thinking about ways I could have him back so…I’m going canon divergent while being as close to canon as possible. ‘Cause that’s how Cassie do. This is where Leftoverture officially crosses over with Crash Into Me!

Summary: Sam tries to convince Dean to talk to his widow, but it takes a visit from an old friend to get him to do the right thing.

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Word count: 3755

Story Warnings: angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression, memory fuckery,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, get off the phone. Who are you texting?” Dean asked, looking over at Sam’s thumbs tapping out a message.

“I’m...just letting some people know that you’re back, okay? What?” Sam defended, pulling his phone out of Dean’s reach as his brother tried to grab it.

“She better not be part of that group text, Sam. I will kick your lanky ass.”

“Dean, come on.”

“She has mourned me! She’s probably just starting to get okay and you want me to break that? Not to mention the kid. How are we supposed to explain to her that I’m just suddenly not dead anymore?” Dean pulled over onto the shoulder and glared at Sam until he rolled his eyes and sighed, hitting the X to take his sister-in-law’s number away from the list that included Bobby 2.0, Jody, Donna, Charlie 2.0, and Garth. “Thank you.”

“It’s only been a month. You think she’s starting to get over you already?” Sam finished tapping out his text as Dean pulled back onto the interstate.

“I think I’m a threat to her life as long as I’m in her life, man. I mean, that’s why it took us so long to get together in the first place, because I knew that me being a hunter was gonna put her in the ground and it was just lucky for all of us that it put me in the ground before her.”

“Don’t say th-”

“It’s better for her to think I’m still dead!” Dean exploded. “If she knows I’m alive, she’ll come back to the bunker and she’s gonna end up dead and that’ll be on me! Okay, it’s better if she thinks I’m dead and we keep it that way!”

“So, I guess you’ve made up your mind on this one?” Sam asked.

“Yes!” Dean nodded, somehow still keeping his eyes on the road. “You know what, yes, I’ve made up my mind. Because she deserves to live a life that I’m not ruining. She never wanted the job to encroach on her life, or Rebel’s, okay? Fuck, if I ended up getting that little girl hurt, I could nev--and you know she only agreed to marry me in the first place because Chuck was gonna kill us all anyway and he’s not a problem anymore and what happened to my ring when I bit it? You didn’t burn it with me, did you, because that was a really good silver ring and if you melted it with me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Sam shook his head in disappointment. “Your wife was wearing it on her thumb last time I saw it.”

Dean sighed and licked his lips. “It’s better this way, Sam. I know you don’t see it, but it’s better.”

“Right. You, uh, you remember when you guys were ‘just friends’ and she started dating that asshole that didn’t know what ‘no’ meant?” Dean’s jaw clenched tight at the memory. “You remember how pissed off you got that she was dating someone, let alone a Dom dickbag like him, and how you spent the entire weekend trying to get dirt on him to use to get her to dump him?”

"He was tryin' to put things in her while she was drunk! He deserved a bullet through the skull for that shit and he's lucky she wouldn't let me go talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. He was a piece of shit, but you didn't know that when we got there. You just didn’t like him because he was dating her."

"I'm a good judge of character and she is not. She dates douchebags. She always has. I mean, look at her cheating son-of-a-bitch ex-husband. If she's dating them, they're douchebags."

Sam rolled his eyes, obviously catching Dean’s self-deprecating undertone in that sentence. "Okay, but you're just gonna let her date someone else? You're gonna let her find some other douchebag to date that you won't be able to save her from?"

"I didn't save her from Mike or Drew. She was already half out the door on both of them before I interceded with either. And I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work." Dean pointed his finger in Sam’s face. "You're not gonna get me all jealous so I go find her because I'm afraid of her getting over me and moving on. I want her to move on. I want her to have a good life. That's the whole point here, man."

"Dean, she's not going to move on. She's gonna be devastated the rest of her life because you aren't-"

"So, we should make it worse by putting her through it twice?!" Dean snapped. "We should make her have to watch me burn another time, right? We should make her clear her shit out of the Bunker in a few years too? We should make her live with the hope that one day I'll manage to make it home again? We should put her heart back together just to shatter it into pieces again when I die permanently? Fuck you, Sam. I can't do it to her. I just...no."

Sam took a deep breath and shook his head sadly. "Fine."

"It's better this way. It's just better."

"Sure. It’s better.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was something cleansing about a simple werewolf hunt. Sam was being a little overbearing, but Dean understood why. Sam didn’t want to see him die anymore than he wanted to die again. There were only two wolves and they went down easy. It was a textbook hunt...just like the vampire cult should have been.

Sam shook away memories of the night in the barn and followed an energized Dean out to the Impala. It wouldn’t happen again. Not anytime soon. Dean was around to stay. Sam would make sure of it.

“So, hit the motel, pizza and beer, head back to the bunker in the morning. Did you report my death to the fire department because I’m still wanting that job and I’ll have to think of one hell of an excuse if you told them I died.” Dean shrugged, continuing before Sam could respond. “I’m gonna need to come up with an excuse either way, but an excuse for a month of radio silence is easier than an excuse for comin’ out of the Lazarus Pit, ya know?”

“I...didn’t say anything to them, Dean. It was really low on my list of priorities to tell the Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department that Dean Campbell was dead.”

“Awesome. I’ll figure out what to tell them. For now...pizza.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, I know, it was a crazy situation, but I honestly think getting lost in the Yukon without a cell phone was probably the best thing that could have happened to me." Dean laughed into the phone as he walked into the library. "Yeah, exactly. Never gonna take a warm, dry bed for granted again. Well, thank you so much for understanding, Captain. I'm excited to get training. That's gonna be...yeah, I'm gonna be there. Thanks again."

Dean smiled as he tucked his phone into his pocket. "He bought it. Thanks for putting those fake Canadian news pieces up. Appreciate it."

"Okay, but what if someone else searches your fake name, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You think she's Googling me?" He stepped forward and looked down at Sam sitting at the library table. "She Googles me and she'll find a story about a man named Dean Campbell getting lost in the Yukon and surviving on moose and wolverine and melted snow. No pic, no identifying words. She'll look at it, say 'It is a miracle this guy survived' and then she'll move on to the next search result, okay? I don't understand why you're all up in my business about this but-"

"You don't miss them?" Sam asked, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning forward.

Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "No, I do not."

Sam stood and looked down into his brother's eyes. "Well, I do."

"Well, they're staying gone." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and walked toward the hall. "Good talk."

He sat on the edge of his bed and ran his hand down his face. Of course he missed her. Of course he missed the little girl he treated as his own daughter...or...the other Dean treated like a daughter. It was just too difficult. Explaining to his wife was one thing, an easy thing. She’d come back in a heartbeat and it would all be fine between them. She wouldn’t care that he wasn’t exactly the same in body, that he had different scars and a slightly different pattern of freckles or that his hair wasn’t quite right even after trying to make it work for four damn days.

She fell for him because of how he treated her, how safe she felt with him, how he made her feel. All of that was in the memories. How he felt about her was in the memories, too. He loved her in a way he'd never been able to let himself love anyone else. She was so much different than any other woman he'd considered making a life with because she was like all the best parts of them all mixed together. She was smart like Cassie Robinson, badass like Jo Harvelle, understanding of the Life without being part of it...with a kid, just like Lisa. He remembered that...and he knew that he'd never find another woman like her.

That was okay. He didn't really want another one: another woman, partner, wife. He couldn’t see himself opening up like that to someone other than his short little badass. And Sam was right that he didn't really want her with someone else, either...but she deserved it. She deserved to get over him and move on to greener pastures. So he had to stay away. For her good, he had to stay dead.

For the good of the little girl, too. If he just came back from the dead, it would completely fuck that little girl's understanding of life and death. It would fuck her up for life.

Dean sighed, picking up his phone and kissing his lock screen; the picture they took on the beach for their honeymoon. He held the phone over his heart for a minute and lied back, staring at the ceiling until sleep took him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean smiled as he sat in a folding chair on the side of a soccer field, watching a short blonde girl dribble a ball between her feet on the green grass. "She's gettin' good," he commented to himself.

"She missed tryouts this year," a familiar voice said. Dean gasped a little as he turned in his seat to look at the angel in the beige trenchcoat. "They moved back to Florida too late for her to be placed on a team."

"Cas? Are you--is this--this is a dream."

"Yes. But...my presence is not." Castiel smiled as Dean stood and wrapped him in a hug. "Jack saved me from the Cosmic Entity from the Empty. We've been improving Heaven."

Dean pulled back and sniffled as he slapped a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Man, where have you been, then? We've missed you."

"Angels stay in Heaven now. Jack and I thought it was best to keep our interference to a minimum." Cas chuckled. "I'm not technically supposed to be here now."

Dean licked his lips. "Well, then...what's with the, uh, Freddy Krueger you're pulling?"

"Dean requested it. He knows what's been happening on Earth, that you've taken on his memories and essentially become him, and he knows that you are avoiding Cassie."

Dean scoffed and stepped back from the angel. "I'm sure he's got an opinion on all this."

"He does. He has a strong opinion on what you're doing and what you should be doing." Castiel stepped closer. "He told me to tell you to get your head out of your ass. He said that, if you have his memories, you're in love with her too and you need to go to her. He knows you couldn’t live with losing her forever...so don't lose her."

"Cas, she's better off without me."

"Is she?" the angel challenged. "Because she’s Dean Winchester’s widow. Doesn't that put a target on her back?"

Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line and looked away. She could handle it...right? "She's got protections...and we taught her to fight. She's gonna be fine."

"Dean told me to tell you that if you don't get in his car and drive to Florida, he's going to 'rip your pansy lungs out'," Cas said, doing air quotes. Dean scoffed. "He was very adamant that you go to her."

"Fine. But it's gonna hurt her. I'm gonna hurt her." Dean was absolutely serious but Cas just smiled and shook his head a little. "Hey, uh, Cas? Before you go...I'm...I'm not gonna get to see you again, right? So, don't you think we should talk about-"

"I think that would be a bit redundant." Castiel’s smile brightened, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Dean and I have spoken at length about my sacrifice and the words spoken before Billie and I were taken to the Empty."

"And?"

"And Dean Winchester’s Heaven is full of people who love and cherish him...who see him for the hero he is. He never believes he's going to hurt any of them. You should learn from his example."

"DEAN! Look!" Dean looked behind him to see the girl kick the soccer ball at the goal. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

"Great job, Youngblood!" he shouted before turning back around. The angel was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean smiled tightly at Sam as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. “So, uh...I’m gonna take a few days...drive down to Florida.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah...Castiel came to me in a dream last night. Said the original me is up there in Heaven and he’s very unhappy with my choice.”

“Really?” Sam was obviously amused.

“Yeah. I don’t know if it was really him or not. Maybe it was just my brain kickin’ me in the ass but...I’m gonna go get ‘em back.”

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d come to your senses.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway...I’ll be back in a couple days. I’ve got training on Monday so...it’ll be a short trip. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t but…” He shrugged. “Don’t know ‘til I go talk to her.”

“Good luck, man.”

Dean nodded before heading to the garage. He had plenty of time to get nervous as he drove toward his in-laws’ house in North Florida. A month wasn’t too long. She’d gone longer without him in the past, but...he was alive back then. She knew he’d be back eventually.

He parked the Impala down the street. He wanted to see her before he talked to her. He needed to see how she was working through his death...if she even needed him. Dead Dean told him to go, but if she was moving on, he’d just get back in the car.

She was on the porch when he arrived, coming around the neighbor’s house to hide in the shadows around the side of her parent’s house. “It’s still hard. I don’t think it’s ever not gonna be hard. I still keep wanting to hear that damn Impala coming down the road. But even if I did hear it...I know it’d be Sam.” Dean bit his bottom lip. She was still mourning him. “I don’t know, Manda, but Erik has been a godsend.” His eyebrows went up. Who the fuck is Erik? Did she move on already? “He’s the only reason I get out of bed most mornings. He’s been helping a lot with Aria, driving her to school in the morning and making breakfast. Oh, he makes the best pancakes.” She gave a small chuckle. “Not that I need pancakes. I’ve put on, like, fifteen pounds since he died. Yeah, that is a lot. Erik doesn’t think so either...and Dean wouldn’t care...but I care”

Dean watched her shrug before shaking her head. “I don’t know. He seems nice but...my parents didn’t even know Dean and I got married, so of course Erik doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand...but he’s helping anyway.” She sighed and hummed a little into the air, staring up at the moon. “It’s still just really hard.”

Dean watched as she finished her phone call to her best friend and kept looking up into the night sky. He had to force himself to step around the side of the house and toward her. “Who’s Erik?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to ask. Green eyes behind thick, dark glasses went wide as she turned to look at him.

“Dean?” she squeaked.

“Mostly,” he whispered as she threw her phone to skim across the grass and launched herself at him. He closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed by the feel of her warmth against him. “Come on, Crash, I taught you better than this. Where’s your silver and holy water, baby?”

“Inside,” she sobbed out into his chest. “But I know you’re you. I can feel it.”

He pressed his lips to her hair and took a step back, leaning down a bit to look directly into her eyes. “I am me, but I’m also...I’m also not. Can we...can we take a walk?”

“Of course!” she agreed, sniffling and wiping at her eyes under her glasses.

They started to walk out of the yard onto the street. “Okay, but before I get into my whole thing...who the fuck is Erik?”

“Oh, he’s a maintenance guy, works with my dad. When I moved to the Bunker, Erik rented my room.”

Dean nodded, his lips pursed. “So, he’s your parents’ tenant and you’re letting him take your daughter to school?”

“My parents trust him...I trust him.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “He’s a nice guy...and he’s a writer, too. He was shocked by the number of notebooks I have. He used to do all of his writing on his computer, but he’s started writing in notebooks since I showed him the versatility of handwriting a story. He said it was like going back to simpler times.”

“Okay. I guess...so, he’s just…”

“He’s just a guy that lives at the house.” She looked over at him as he jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “So, how are you back? Sam burned you. You shouldn’t be back.”

“You remember when Chuck was destroying the other universes and the other versions of me and Sam showed up? They were fleeing their world.”

“I remember. Sam wouldn’t take his hair down.”

“Right, well...um…” He cleared his throat. “Couple weeks ago, Man-bun Sam died in South America. Werewolves...and Dean couldn’t take it and he did a full wipe of his memories so that he wouldn’t have to remember and Sam went to Rowena to get her to fix it. Her version of fixing it was to give him, give me, your husband’s memories.”

“So, you’re-” She stopped in the middle of the street and turned to look at him. “You’re not my Dean?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got all of his memories. I’ve got all of his love.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Slightly different body...and a different soul. Your Dean is in Heaven. But I’m just like him. I’m exactly like him, Crash.”

She swallowed and searched his face for a few moments before she looked away. “The day we met...why was I crying?”

She was quizzing him, testing his memories, seeing how much like her husband he really was. “Mike left you,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t the first time...or the last. Rebel was about...two years old and you were tryin’ to hold yourself together. We shared some beer and talked about the monster Sam and I put down...and you gave me your number.”

“You, uh, you had a tattoo that I designed...it burned so you don’t have it now, but what-”

“I’ll get the rune again,” he interrupted. “So you can astral to me again.”

“Oh, it is you,” she whispered.

“It is me.” He wrapped her in a hug again and she grabbed at his jacket to hold him to her. “I don’t know how to go about this, though. How are we gonna explain to the kid that-”

“I-I don’t know.” She pulled back and shook her head. “I don’t know if she even caught on to the fact that you were dead...all I said was ‘gone’. I just said you were gone.”

That might make it easier. “Is she back at the house?”

“No. She’s with her father. It’s just Erik and my parents at the house right now.”

“Do your parents know I died? I’m just trying to determine if we can go in or if I’m sleeping in the car tonight.” He smiled at her as she sighed and looked away.

“I told them you broke up with me.”

“So, can I come inside?”

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch...unless you wanna sleep on the floor in Aria’s room. I’ve been sleeping with her on her loft bed since Erik has my old room and bed and all that.”

He smiled and headed toward the house, her hand in his. “She still have that big pile of stuffed animals under the loft?” She nodded and he smirked. “Then I’ll sleep in her zoo.”

She led him into the house and started up the stairs. They were halfway up the stairs when the door to the room that used to be hers opened. “Cass?” a voice asked. Dean stopped in his tracks.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, Erik.”

“It’s okay. I was just worried when you didn’t come back in. Are you-” Shadows fell over Dean and Crash as a figure stepped to the top of the stairs. “Oh, shit.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he stepped around his wife and up a few stairs. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he demanded.

“You’re dead,” the blue-eyed man squeaked.

“About as dead as you’re about to be, Chuck.”

~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #leftoverture #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #post barn scene #angst

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celestialevie · 3 years

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Weddings and what could’ve been’s // F.W. x F! Reader

Hi! This is my first ever posted fic, I hope you’ll like it!

PAIRING: Fred Weasley x F! Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: You’ve been friends with Fred since forever. But what happens when the one you love is not feeling the same and now he’s getting married to the girl he loves. Based off of this song :))

Word count: 2.5k

It was supposed to be a good day. Waking up, getting ready for another day of writing her novel about picturing a certain red head as love interest of her novel. But it all flushed down when she saw a small envelope just sitting there on the table, almost as if it was mocking her. It's been sitting there ever since it arrived yesterday afternoon, not expecting to receive an invitation to the wedding of one person she didn't want to participate in. Fredrick Gideon Weasley. Her best friend since their second year of Hogwarts. It was almost ironic how a simple wedding invitation can break a heart that's already been on the verge of breaking, tears were rolling down her face, not a single sound could've been heard besides her sobs. Her best friend/roommate ran out of her room as soon as she heard her. Not expecting to see her best friend on the floor crying over a single paper, she realises what happened, the one thing she dreaded even though it was only a matter of time before it happened. The way Fred was talking about that girl, she knew that her best friend was in a wait of a permanent broken heart. But now a day later, she decided to throw the invitation in the rubbish, deciding no matter how much she cared about her best friend she knew she wouldn't be able to handle watching him promising himself to someone else for forever. Taking out a bottle of her favourite rose, she pours some of it in a glass and heads back to her room, deciding to forget about her heartbreak by throwing herself into her fictional world where she was the one Fred loved.

Soon, she'll realise that not even wine and her own fictional world would help cure her broken heart. Not when the one she's so in love with decided so pay her a visit, not hearing anything from her in over a week. He wondered if she got the invitation to the wedding, the day he couldn't wait for it to finally happen. The thing is, he's not going to be able to do it, if his soulmate in a form of his best friend isn't there by his side, making sure he doesn't panic like he often happens to do in stressful situations.

Upon hearing knocking on her door, she slowly gets up from her desk, heading to open the door, not expecting to see the person she wanted to see the least, standing in front of her.

Every day they were closer to the day that changes everything for forever. One of them was dreading that day, while the other one couldn't want for it to come any sooner. Soon it was the day of rehearsal dinner or also known as the day before it all goes shit show for her. Everything was ready, her outfit ready for tomorrow. Deciding she wasn't strong enough to make it through the wedding alone, she begged her best friend to go with her, helping her survive with alcohol. The wedding was in the backyard of The Burrow, but it wasn't anything special or near as big as it was Bill's, both Fred and Lillian agreeing it was best to have a smaller intimate wedding with their closest ones there. Apparating a minute away from The Burrow, she walks towards the door, knocking softly before entering the house. Everyone was on their feet, final preparations for tomorrow are being made. Ginny was the first one to notice her, running towards the girl. Brining her in the hug, she laughs. '' Hi Ginny '' they pull away from the hug, Ginny looking at the girl. '' You look gorgeous y/n. I'm still angry at my brother for not marrying you. '' y/n rolls her eyes playfully. '' Stop it, you know we would never work as a couple, plus Lillian is a lovely girl, I'm sure she'll be a good sister-in-law. '' they talked as they walked upstairs heading towards Ginny's room. What no one knew is that the night of the Yule ball, Fred was ready to confess his dying crush on his best friend, that's why he brought her to the astronomy tower. He had it all planned out until they were interrupted, and it was all ruined. Fred often wondered if they hadn't been interrupted would've it been her who he was marrying. Would it work out or would it fail and therefore ruin their friendship. George was the only one along with Lee who knew about it. That's why the night before the wedding he found himself sitting in front of the small lake they had behind their house, wondering if Lillian is truly the one he wants to marry. Y/n found him after a few minutes, joining him. '' I knew I'd find you here. '' he said nothing, just kept looking in front of him. '' What's bothering you, Freddie? '' she gently took his hand into hers, brushing her thumb gently across his hand. '' I'm just worried if I'm making a mistake or rushing this. Before tonight, I couldn't been happier waiting for this day to finally come, but now that it's here all my mind seems to do is make me wonder if I'm marrying the wrong girl. Maybe I should just marry you, we've been friends for forever, it wouldn't change much. '' he lets out a small laugh. Letting go off his hand, I grab his face with my hands on both sides of his face. '' Fred I need you to look at me. Do you love Lillian? '' he nods his head. '' I don't think I've ever loved anyone the way I love her. '' a small smile appears in the corner of his mouth. '' Do you see yourself being with her for the rest of your life? Is she the one you want to see growing old with you? '' y/n questions him. Fred waits for a few seconds before answering, with a big smile on his face. '' Yeah, I do. God, why was I even doubting this. This is why I need you by my side, you always know how to get me out of my head. Thank you, love. '' he pulls her into a strong hug. '' Hey, if you need a getaway car tomorrow, me and George will have one prepared and then we can get married. '' she joked, even though there was some half truth in it. '' it's late, I have to go get that beauty sleep for tomorrow so do you. Goodnight Freddie. '' she plants a small kiss on his cheek before apparating herself back to her flat, before crashing down in the middle of living room, bursting into tears of heartbreak. The pieces that weren't shatter from before, had shattered now. There were no pieces left of her heart. The rest of the night she spent in the arms of her best friend, crying herself to sleep.

It was funny really. The story of how they met, how they became inseparable and how she eventually fell in love with him. The latter didn't come to much of a surprise. How could someone not fall in love with him, when he's the most amazing person she's ever come across. It was their second year in Hogwarts, and she was heading towards the library, deciding to prepare herself for the upcoming Potions exam. Merlin knows how much she dreaded those. It wasn't her fault, most people on her mom's side of family never really knew how to do potions. As she was walking there, someone grabbed her by her arm and started dragging her away with them in a direction of the nearest broom closet. In a second she realised it was one of the Weasley twins. Not even needing to ask why he was in such a hurry, already knowing they caused another trouble. Quickly running inside the broom closet, one of the twins put a hand on her mouth, signalling for her to be quiet. Rolling her eyes, she did as told until we heard Filch and Mrs. Norris passing by. Another minute passed on until he removed his hand from her mouth. '' I'm Fred. '' he introduced himself. '' Y/n '' she shook his hand. '' Care to explain why you dragged me into this dusty broom closet with yourself? '' Fred laughed. '' Had to move you out of the way from Filch or else you'd be in the trouble along with me. '' nodding her head, she left the closet. And that was the beginning of their weird friendship. From participating in the pranks, to making excuses why they're not in the certain classes you shared with them to Fred asking her to go to the Yule Ball with him, leading us to the night they had almost kissed. Somewhere in between she slowly fell for her best friend without intending to. It all felt like a dream. Dancing with her best friend so closely, to sneaking off to the astronomy tower because that night, the stars were shining so bright. Slow dancing in the moonlight, it all felt almost to perfect. Both of them slowly leaning towards each other until they heard a crashing noise, interrupting their intimate moment. It made her realise that it was for the best for them to be just friends, their friendship being worth more than a relationship not knowing how it'll end. Almost as if it was a silent agreement between them, neither of the two brought it up ever again. She would never want to ruin his day, so yes she had agreed to be his second best man, no matter how much it'll hurt to be there so up close seeing it all unfold almost like in a film scene.

Next morning when she woke up, she felt so exhausted while getting ready. She barely had any energy in her body and she was pretty sure she also had no tears left. Putting on her beautiful dress, she did her makeup and hair. She was ready to stand there next to her best friend, and watch him marry the love of his life, no matter how much the fact that it's not her hurted. It was a beautiful ceremony, he looked so beautiful in his dark blue suit, it really made his hair and eyes stand out a bit more, and don't her started on how beautiful the bride was. Her gown looked straight out of a fairytale. A few tears espaced during the ceremony but when George asked her why is she crying, she brushed it off as happy tears, even though she knew she didn't fool George with that lie. During the reception she mostly stayed at her table, trying to drown her sorrow in the wine and other alcoholic drinks. She watched as her roommate/best friend danced with George along with watching Fred and Lillian dance together like it was only two of them. Molly and Ginny often came and talked to me, but it wasn't long until I couldn't handle it anymore and just drowned the rest of my drink before saying goodbye to everyone, making an excuse saying she unfortunately had to go home and finish her book, her publisher gave her a deadline until tomorrow. The last person left to say goodbye to was Fred. Tapping him on the shoulder, she gives him a smile as he turns around. '' Congratulations Freddie boy once again. But I have to leave now unfortunately, I have a book to finish. '' Before she could even say anything he took her hands and put them around his neck, pulling her closer to him. '' Just this one dance and then I'm setting you free, okay? '' He begged her. Nodding her head, they start slow dancing. '' I'm really proud of you Freddie, you finally found the one you always talked about. Hopefully one day I'm gonna find my prince charming one day. '' she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. '' I'm sorry I wasn't the one for you. '' he said, making the tears slowly start pooling in my eyes. '' That's not for you to apologise, we're too good friends for us to work in a relationship. Us not kissing that night of the yule ball was for the best. If we kissed who knows if you'd meet Lillian, your true love. Don''t you worry about me. '' and with that she pulled away from him, placing a small kiss on his cheek before apparating home. Letting him stand there alone, her words sinking in, making him wonder again if he had made a mistake by not letting her know of his feeling that night. But soon his thoughts were brushed away as he felt the lips of his wife on his.

'' Hello love '' he greets her after she moved aside, letting him in. Pulling her into a hug, he goes into the living room, while she still stands there shocked at her door. Quickly getting rid of her thoughts, she heads over to where he was. '' Hi Freddie, what are you doing here? I didn't expect you to visit. '' she sits down next to him. '' Well it's been over a week since I've last heard from you, so I decided to pay you a visit. She nods her head. '' Yeah, sorry about that. I started working on my novel again and that's all I've focusing on recently. Didn't mean to neglect your need for constant attention. '' she jokes, even though she knew he had his fiancée know to give him attention. Fred rolls his eyes. '' Yeah yeah whatever. Listen I have a question/favour to ask you. '' she furrows her eyebrows. '' Okay, I'm listening. '' taking a deep breath, he begins. '' So as you probably know I proposed to Liliana. Speaking of that, have you received my invitation to the wedding? '' it's been over a month since they got engaged, and yet she still couldn't bare the thought of losing Fred forever. '' Yes I have, it's very beautiful Freddie, I am very happy for the two of you. '' she gives him her best fake smile, not wanting to upset her best friend. '' Thank you, love. My question is, would you like to be my second best man? Along with George of course. I don't think that I would be able to do it without you by my side. Please say yes or at least think about it. It would really mean everything to me. '' This was definitely something she hadn't expect. There goes your plan on not going to the wedding, making an excuse of why she can't make it and get drunk in her room while watching her favourite romcoms. '' Of course Freddie, anything for you. '' those words came out before you even had a chance to think about them.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harrypotter #george weasley #hpau #angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george weasley #fred weasley smut #hogwarts #george weasley fanfiction #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley angst

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stormhaven13 · 3 years

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Alright. We have arrived. I am beginning the Survivor. Let’s talk about why Ikrie is my favorite character in the game other than Aloy. And to do that we're actually going to do a little story time of the first time I played Horizon. This is going to get long, so bear with me. I finally figured out how to do a read more, so the rest of this is under the cut.

So, when I first played her quests, I didn't fall in love with Ikrie. I liked her quite a bit, but it was just kind of casual, oh this character seems pretty cool. But I then went on and played more of the main quest of the Frozen Wilds, and Ikrie went into the back of my head. She'll come back, don't worry.

After I wrapped up playing this game, I do what I often do after a really good game or story, and I took some time to reflect on exactly why I loved this game so much. I've talked quite a bit about how much I adore this game's plot and world building, but I still think the number one reason for me is Aloy. I just love her character, I love her arc, I love the relationships she builds over the game, I love her design, pretty much everything about her is amazing to me. I also realized something super interesting, for me. I headcanoned Aloy as ace.

Now, I know this isn't that uncommon a thing, but I myself am ace, but I actually almost never think of characters as ace. I don't really know why, I just never have, which is especially strange, as being ace is the part of my identity I've understood the longest. Aloy is the first character in a very long time that I thought of as ace, just on my own. This intrigued me, and I went looking for fanwork, just to see what other people's takes on Aloy were, to see if there was more about this character that would resonate for me. And that's where I found the thing. The thing that opened my mind to how incredible Ikrie is.

I'll link it at the end of this, but I found a fanfic called Put Your Spear Beside Mine, and the characterization just blew me away. It looks at how alone Aloy feels, with no one to share all of the crazy things she learns over this game, and the dynamic between Aloy and Ikrie is just incredible. It explores how they are both basically outsiders with their clans, that they do not really believe in the laws and beliefs of their tribes. You may notice that this mold fits almost all of my favorite characters in Horizon, and yeah, I'm aware, but Ikrie ticks a lot of the same boxes as Aloy does for me.

While Aloy is not portrayed as ace in this fic, it opened up a whole new thing that I had loved about her, but hadn't been able to really vocalize, and now Ikrie was now balled up in all that. She has so many similarities to Aloy, with just a few key differences that just. Really hit home for me. She has a very close friend that just cannot understand her, and ends up leaving her. Rather than being alone from the beginning, she had a place where she was supposed to belong, but never quite did, but tried so hard to do it anyway. I know I say Aloy is autistic a lot, but those things just hit me very hard in a way that Aloy's permanent isolation never quite can.

And do I ship Aloy/Ikrie? I mean, yeah, I do, but that's honestly secondary to everything else, shipping Aloy with anyone was never my main concern honestly. I just love both their characters, I love how they are so close in characterization except for these key things that really do change them quite drastically.

Aloy will always be my favorite here, she's the protagonist, we see so much more of her, my headcanons for her are just so close to my heart, I probably dyed my hair red because of her she's just great okay? But Ikrie is caught up in all of that too, partially due to the ideas in that fanfic, but mostly because of the character that's already there.

Here's the fic in question, I highly recommend giving it a read, it just shows so much of what I love of these characters. And yes, this is why I think the Frozen Wilds should take place post game, this is the entire reason. Only warning to give with this is there is some smut in a few different parts, so if that's not your thing you should be aware of that. But this fic just showcases so much of what I love about these two characters, and you should absolutely give it a read. Also, @pikapeppa, who is the author, you're incredible and thank you for writing this.

But yeah, this has been why Ikrie is so important to me! I'm sure I'll say more as I play through the quest, but if you got this far, thanks for sticking with me!

#storm replays hzd #horizon zero dawn #ikrie #aloy #pikapeppa #sorry for the ping #just wanted to thank you as I'm fairly certain this my favorite fic of all time #just because of how much it got me to realize about aloy and ikrie #who I just love to death #hzd spoilers #I actually went up to my computer to type this and everything #it's basically an essay I wanted to do it right :p

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herpartnerintime · 3 years

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max's separation anxiety with chloe

It takes an incident when going out to the mall alone to make Max fully realize how much anxiety she has when it comes being apart from Chloe, no matter how briefly.

It happened when a man walked into the elevator with her and all she saw was Jefferson, that even when her mind let her see it wasn’t him, all she could process was it was an unfamiliar man who might try and hurt her like him. Without even thinking she rewinded him out and away from her and then ran herself out and locked herself in a bathroom, calling Chloe in a frantic panic. Chloe had literally had to come rescue her. In a bathroom. She’d have felt more embarrassed if she couldn’t appreciate the humour in them both saving each other in a bathroom. She thinks of the fear she voiced to Chloe all those years ago that day... That she didn't think she'd be okay without Chloe. Even though on the outside she had appeared okay those five years, locking a part of her soul away to cope was far from okay, she realizes now. And it turns out that now, as an adult, she’s not okay either being away from Chloe - but in a totally different way now. Part of it is fear of Chloe dying and not being there to rewind to save her. Having to watch Chloe die so much that week has been haunting her awake and asleep. She’s pretty sure ‘traumatized’ might be the right word to describe how all of Chloe’s deaths have affected her mentally. She didn’t have any time to process it much during that week, but after the storm it’s been really catching up with her, the amount of times Chloe died, the fact one death was by her own hand, at Chloe's request.... She knows the universe was trying very hard to kill Chloe. And she can’t help but fear it could happen again, even if the storm was the consequence for the universe to spare Chloe’s life. What if Chloe’s out alone driving in her truck and something happens to her? It happened in that alternate reality, hadn’t it? Bongo, William, Chloe.... all vehicle deaths or in Chloe's case had left her paralyzed and slowly dying... how can she be sure Chloe is safe when it happened to her in one reality? What if it happens in this one? What if the universe figures it's killed off William, Joyce now too, and wants to add Chloe to the list permanently?

Max won’t be able to save her if that happens and she’s not there. Though she has endless pictures to jump into. If Chloe were to die or be seriously hurt, Max takes photos all the time of them she could jump into. But who knows if she really will have these powers forever? They could disappear in an instant. Her words to Chloe about her powers not lasting forever might end up coming true someday. And they won't last forever if the universe kills Chloe and she can't rewind it and bring her back. She could lose Chloe for good and have no way to get back to her. So when Chloe is away from her, Max can't help but fear for Chloe. She'll even fire off her normal dorky texts because while she loves being dorky in texts with Chloe she also finds it comforting when she responds, because that means Chloe is okay. Safe. In this reality with her.

And that incident at the mall made Max realize it’s not just Chloe’s death she fears when being apart – it's that she doesn’t feel safe herself apart from Chloe. She’s still haunted by The Dark Room, the way Jefferson hurt her, made her feel so violated in his Dark Room hell, and she’s still haunted too by having to walk through the storm alone in a world where Chloe was dead and gone and she was completely alone with death all around her, the storm itself a threat to her life... or how she was dragged into that terrifying nightmare on the cliff being chased in some fragmented twisted reality. How can she be sure she won’t get dragged away from Chloe again, dragged back into The Dark Room or that nightmare and never be able to escape? Or end up back in that reality where she had to put Chloe to sleep forever and exist in a world where Chloe is dead? She was in so many other realities she's terrified one of them will steal her away from Chloe... And how can she even be sure she'll be safe from Mark Jefferson... she's found out he's not dead, he survived the storm like David did (apparently David and the police had secured him in the Dark Room until the storm was over... how is it fair he lived and so many others are dead?) he's in prison, but what if he escapes and comes after her?

Max's rewinding made it so Jefferson will have no memory of her in The Dark Room with him because it didn't happen in this reality but that won't change how she was a target he'd been planning to drug and take photos of. Won't change how Chloe was a target either, because his Dark Room was under 24/7 surveillance, as he had told her himself. And that she didn't change. That she didn't rewind, that knowledge he'll have with him in prison, that he saw Max and Chloe in his Dark Room and before he'd been able to kill Chloe and have Max drugged and tied up in his Dark Room his Dark Room had been stormed by David and the police and he'd been arrested. An escaped Jefferson, Max knows, might want to come after her and Chloe, might want her for revenge, to get those photos of her he never got in this reality. Could she still end up back in his Dark Room? With Chloe this time? Or would he just kill Chloe again and keep her forever, stealing away her forever with Chloe? The thought of being back in his Dark Room again hurts her, terrifies her. Even worse to imagine Chloe being in there with her too...

And could he figure out she has powers? The thought seems impossible but if he thinks about it enough... he's smart, she knows that, hates that, but if anyone could figure out the truth about her she bet he could. Photographers are observant. To observant. She's one, so she knows. He could connect the dots.. He already was noticing how different she'd been that week.

Goddamn, you are a fighter, though. I've had my eye on you, and I have noticed that you've been more...fearless this week than maybe your whole life.

Especially since you've developed from nerd to hero within a week. There's something...weird going on with you.

He'd been that observant. Maybe the Dark Room memories with her were gone from him, but those observations wouldn't be and they'd be right alongside the knowledge she and Chloe were why he was in prison. There was no way he wouldn't be fascinated learning she survived with Chloe, fascinated even that she and Chloe had been able to figure out about his Dark Room in the first place. No way he wouldn't take note of how his next targets he'd intended to lure out pretending to be Nathan had figured out it was really him behind it all and then survived an insane storm that had wiped out the entire town while he'd ended up in prison, when he'd, as he'd put it to her, had been so sane no one had any idea what was happening to her. How had Max and Chloe done it, she knew he'd wonder. It was almost like they had knowledge they couldn't possibly have had... He would figure out how much it didn't make sense unless...

How could he not connect the dots to her having some kind of power? Max alive somehow. Acting strange all week. Weird crazy weather, dying animals. Big storm the night he'd intended to kill her and Chloe, he ends up arrested instead, they survive, some of the only ones who do. He could connect the dots. In prison he'll have all the time in the world to connect them, and when he does, if he figures out how to escape? And she bets he could. Bets he'll have plenty of fans lining up to help him. Maybe he won't even have to escape, maybe he'll be let out of prison early, it happens doesn't it?

And if he gets out early or soon, or escapes, connects the dots, realizes she has some kind of power, he'll know how to come after her and Chloe. Her powers don't make her invincible, she knows that now, and someone who knew she has them would be a thousand times more dangerous to her and Chloe.

She won't be able to rewind if he comes up behind her and drugs her again, knowing this time to make sure he keeps her drugged up so she can't rewind...

These thoughts and fears of Mark Jefferson take over Max's thoughts to much. She hates it. Hates knowing he'd be delighted if he knew how much of a place he still has in her head.

Max expresses all these fears about him to Chloe, her fears of him escaping prison, or getting out early, figuring out she has powers even, coming for them both, and Chloe helps remind her he won't be able to escape prison and they'll never let him out. That even if he does get out, she'd never let him touch her again. Which is all the more reason Max doesn't like being apart from Chloe. She needs Chloe to protect her from him and she needs to be there to protect Chloe from him too, if he tries to kill her again or take her into The Dark Room... she won't let him do it. She won't let him hurt Chloe ever again either.

This is why they need to stay together, close and not apart. They protect each other. They can protect each other right away if they're together, apart the seconds to get back to each other again are to torturous to bear... there's always the fear they might not make it in time. That she won't be safe, that Chloe won't be, because they're apart and can't protect each other.

Being with Chloe just makes her feel safe. Max doesn't think she ever feels safer in this world than when she's in Chloe arms, when she's holding onto her, or leaning against her side, skin touching, or lying in bed in her arms, Chloe's arms like a shield around her. Chloe keeps her grounded, calm, helps keep her fearful, anxious, paranoid thoughts away. A constant reminder Chloe is safe and so is she. Being apart from Chloe shatters all of that. Makes Max panic. Sends her into flashbacks that feel so real the only one who can pull her out is Chloe… like she did for her in that bathroom.

Max knows it’s not healthy - to fear being apart from Chloe to this extreme. They promised each other forever and yes, they will be together forever, but she knows obviously sometimes they're going to be apart briefly. They each have their own interests to pursue which will sometimes involve them being away from each other for part of the day. She knows there's something wrong with her, to feel this way, this fear of being apart, on such an intense level. The way her thoughts can run scares her sometimes, the way she feels she has no control over them, how Chloe being apart from her feels like the scariest thing in the world now. How her mind riddles her with anxieties and fears for Chloe's safety and her own.

It’s not even very fair, since Chloe had to be without her for years. Five of them. And she can’t seem to handle a few hours. When she called in a panic needing Chloe, Chloe was there for her in a heartbeat. She was never there for Chloe’s phone calls when she’d kept calling and calling... She doesn’t deserve Chloe. Doesn’t deserve to have her endless loyalty, being there for her when she wasn’t for her for all those years. Chloe’s forgiven her for it... but in moments like that she realizes she never will forgive herself. For being so selfish she made Chloe live five years without her and now she can’t even handle Chloe not being right by her side at every moment.

And Max is aware of how… unlike her it actually is to be this clingy. She’s an Introvert. She likes alone time. Even during that week it would be nice to have moments alone to just think, to even just feel the excitement of the next time she’d see Chloe. But that week, though it bonded them even more intensely, created a lot of trauma for both of them, Max knows now, in all sorts of ways Max is still discovering. What happened at the mall, her first time apart from Chloe since the storm, was her first discovery of how deep her trauma ran.

And heaven forbid Max is apart from Chloe during a storm. Storms are already so triggering to Max now, she knows for both of them storms hit them different now. If one starts and Chloe is apart from her, it can send Max into a panic. She feels like she's alone in that storm again, that Chloe is dead or will be soon if she doesn't make it to her in time.

And it doesn’t help, Max thinks, she can’t really go to therapy. She’d get herself dragged away from Chloe for sure if she confessed to someone else all the reasons she feels the way she does. What she went through, what they went through, is beyond this world, beyond anything any two people have ever gone through. But she’s not alone, because of her choice. She has Chloe. Has her forever. She can feel safe in her arms, let Chloe feel safe in hers. Has Chloe to talk too. Chloe can talk to her. Chloe has lost so much, William and Joyce and Rachel and Max knows she's haunted by all the lives lost for hers, it haunts Max too the lives lost to the storm, but she'll never regret choosing Chloe. They're both not okay, but they will be... They’ll help each other get through all this. Max will eventually be able to go out alone without falling apart. It’ll take time. But they have all the time in the world to work on it now. Chloe will help her get better, so she can take over the world with her photography and she'll help Chloe too, so Chloe can take over the world with her own passions...

Note: Max may have had general anxiety disorder/social anxiety prior to that week and after, develops PTSD, panic disorder, increased anxiety and Separation Anxiety towards Chloe.

#max headcanons #pricefield #max caulfield #chloe price #mark jefferson

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rogue-barnes-16 · 5 years

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THE DISAPPEARANCE OF NATASHA ROMANOFF (part I/?)

Summary: after the too convenient disappearance of Natasha Romanoff, the Avengers —a local biker gang— search for help in the most unexpected place in order to get their friend back.

Pairing: biker!Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: unclassified (biker gang au)

Tags:

The mysterious disappearance of Natasha Romanoff: @shirukitsune

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language

A/N: consider this a sneak peek of a series I'm planning on writing when I finish one of the ongoing ones. The title is long af so I might change it. Also, sorry for the typos but y'all probably know that I'm a mess

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

A sigh escaped my lips as my leg furiously bounced against the pavement of the parking lot "she ain't gonna help"

"we gotta give it a try" Steve whispered, ogling at the tall skyscraper's entrance, which was illuminated with fancy lanterns that matched the aesthetic of the building itself. "you never know. Plus-"

"I shouldn't have come." I mumbled with a light distress showing up in my voice "the moment she sees me she'll turn around and leave"

"she won't" my bestfriend answered, determined.

"Steve-"

"If we tell her it's not for you-"

"Still-"

The sound of the not so far building's gate opening, was enough to cut me midsentence. And... there she went.

"can't you just cancel it? Tomorrow I-- no Wanda- gosh, he's tiring. Just tell him... yeah" she made her way to her car, unaware of our presence besides it yet, probably due to the poor lighting.

So much money, and yet the wealthy company couldn't improve the goddamn streetlights of its own parking lot.

"Friday? Geez no-- No. Period. Just-" her walking slowed down the moment she saw us. "you know what? Friday it's okay. Goodnight Wan." even before hanging up, she was already glaring at me. "James."

"Y/n" I replied, just because I didn't know what else I could say.

She inhaled before speaking again. "you got some balls." her eyes flashed briefly to Steve. "what the fuck are you two doing here?"

"we need help" I stated, quieter that I would have liked.

She huffed " 'course you do." relocating her bag. "look for help somewhere else." her eyes digged into mines, throwing daggers at me.

And, God, did it hurt. "told you" I grunted in low voice to Steve, already turning around to leave. "She's not helping."

I felt a grip on my arm, stopping me from stalking away. "Y/n, this is not about him"

"I don't give a single fuck." she hissed, walking to her car to open it. "you promised to stay away from me, and you're not doing a good job"

"it's Natasha" Steve blurted out before she could get in the vehicle.

Y/n froze at the mention of her.

"what 'bout her?" she tried to sound careless and cool, but I noticed the switch in her body language.

"she... Disappeared" the blond man spoke, putting emphasis on the last word.

Y/n frowned, her eyes going from me, to Steve, and back to me. "Go to the police"

"you know we can't" this time it was my turn to answer. "You're the only one who can help us, you know that. If you weren't, I wouldn't be here." I stated solemnly. "I keep my promises, you know that."

There was a moment of silence, in which she glared at me with hate in her eyes that masked the pain, I knew, was there. "actually, no, James. I can't recall a single time when you kept your promise, so I don't." and I knew she meant every word. "you got plenty of friends, go look for their help and leave me the fuck alone."

SHUT!

We stood there while she drove away, and I would have been lying if I said I was shocked she left.

I spared a glance at Steve, who was running his fingers through his hair, visibly distressed. "what te fuck do we do now?"

It was only after Steve spoke, that it dawned on me we had no other option to have a chance of getting Natasha back.

"we gotta look for someone else"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Old folders displayed everywhere, empty boxes of Chinese food that Sam bought covered the coffee table, and we all needed a shower.

"we should call Tony" Clint spoke distractedly.

"No we shouldn't" Steve rushed to reply while he tidied up some of the papers. "he's retired"

"Natasha dissappeared, Stevie" Clint's reminder didn't exactly help the moral of the group.

Steve sighed, pinching his nose before shaking his head. "Pepper would kill me." after looking at us for a second, he kept speaking in a hesitant tone "I'll call him if plan A fails"

"plan A?" I questioned, raising and eyebrow. "Plan A failed when Natasha dissappeared" I stated.

"well, then when plan B-"

"Y/n was plan B" Sam yawned, slowly sitting up in the tiny couch where he had fallen asleep "which would have worked if you had listened to Bucky" Sam yawned again, right before stirring "taking him with you, when we needed Y/n, was like- the stupidest idea you had in a while."

Steve took a deep breath before letting out a comeback that would probably cause a fight. "who else we got?"

"No one." Clint almost growled more than spoke.

Out of everyone, he was the most affected by far. Natasha and Clint had grown up together, and the fact that we barely could trust our close friends to get her back was exhausting as well as frustrating.

"think I'm just gonna take a shower" Barton informed us in a mumble before leaving his seat to walk out of the room.

"there's someone" Rhodey's voice made all of us redirect our eyes to the door connecting my kitchen to my living room. "Danvers"

Sam shook his head no "We have no way of contacting her"

Rhodey sighed, exhausted, throwing himself in the chair Clint had just left. "I can contact Rambeau. She'll know where Danvers is"

"She ain't gonna help" It was my turn to contribute with some bad news, not that new, of which none of them were aware. "she knows 'bout what happened with Y/n."

Silence was the answer I got.

Rhodes scoffed "Good to know, James." I kept my eyes trained in my hands, not wanting to face anyone in the room. "Really good to know about this tiny detail after- what? A year?"

Another scoff and more silence.

"let me go through it again" Sam rubbed his temples with closed eyes. "Nat dissappeared, we probably have a mole, and the two people we could use help for" I felt his eyes on me "they won't help." no one spoke. "we're fucked."

We all drowned in our thoughts for a while.

Clint, at some point, had come back. Someone told him we had run out of options, which made him leave. He didn't come back, and I figured he probably fell asleep in my room.

Sun was rising, and, in need of a break, I got up. I really could use some air.

In no time I was standing on my ramshackle balcony, leaned over the railing with both my forearms supporting me.

Sam, who had probably came after me, exited and, after installing himself besides me, he spoke "it's not your fault"

"cut the bullshit"

"okay, it is"

"No shit Sherlock"

He sighed "but not entirely, so don't beat--"

"If she dies" I whispered, my gaze lost on the horizon "it's on me. Like- it's actually on me"

"she's not gonna die" Sam dismissed me quicker than he would have liked. "She's smart, and she's only been missing for around a day and a half "

"Listen, no one said it out loud but we gotta consider it." I blurted out, turning around to face my friend. "if they took her, they'll interrogate her. Do you really think she'll give in?"

"I didn't say that"

"then you know she can end up in a ditch"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "don't say any of this shit in front of Clint"

"I'm not stupid"

He let out a sarcastic chuckle, shaking his head. "yeah, of course you're not." Sam tilted his head slightly towards me without looking. "remind me again why Y/n ditched you."

"Fuck off Wilson." my voice was low, full of anger and frustration and sadness; bottled up emotions that I carried with me since Y/n left.

Bottled up emotions that came to torture me for what I did whenever I heard her name.

We saw a car.

Sam was the first one to point it out.

Not the fact that a car was driving towards a single property in the middle nowhere, hidden with the help of the trees in the woods.

No, Sam was pointing out what car it was.

"it's... Her car?" He sounded incredulous, hesitant, and even suspicious, but I couldn't blame him.

"it is." I confirmed.

And, even though I was sure it was her car, I couldn't believe it until, after parking in front of the house, she climbed off.

She made her way to the porch's stairs. "I'll... Go and tell the others." Sam informed me. "Open the door"

I sighed and slowly made my way downstairs and to the front door just in time to hear the knocks.

I grabbed the knob, but before spinning it, I froze.

I froze because I shouldn't be me opening the door, it shouldn't be me the first person she sees, the first person she made contact with. I shouldn't be me welcoming her, even if it was my home, because I didn't deserve-

"Open the fucking door, James."

And I did, though the movement was way too eager for my liking.

But it was too eager because it was Y/n requesting me to do it, as if she wanted to see me.

I had complied and now we were standing in front of one another. My first thought was to step aside, since I thought she would try to walk past me as soon as possible, but she didn't.

She stood there, looking at me.

"Thought you said no" even though it was quiet, almost a mumble, it was definitely not a great sentence to begin a conversation in such a delicate situation.

Surprisingly, her voice sounded way warmer than I was expecting when she replied to my unfortunate comment. "I made up my mind" thankfully, she kept talking, because I had no idea what to answer. "Nat's my friend too. I'll help."

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heartbreakerholland · 6 years

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lunchtime losers [p.p.]

Summary: Peter Parker was one of your best friends in high school, but there were moments that made you question who exactly he could be to you. Here are a few of those moments you spent in Midtown, trying to figure things out year by year.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: mentions of underaged drug use, mild swearing, open ended. . . ending(?), unedited

Disclaimer: i cannot stress enough that you shouldn't do drugs/alcohol while underaged. i know high school is weird and everybody might seem to be experimenting with new things, but i promise there'll be a time and place where it's appropriate to do so. i am in no way glamorizing/romanticizing (underaged) drug use, even if it's such a small portion of this fic. drug/alcohol abuse is very serious, even as a teenager when it doesn't seem like you're abusing it.

A/N: i have some pointers! this is a different writing style compared to what i've posted before. i've written like this back when i first started writing fanfiction years ago and quite frankly, i don't even like it that much, so i'm very iffy about this. this is based off of my own experience with getting to know my feelings about a good friend, and a lot of the scenes in here are closely accurate to what's actually happened in my life. the only part that i can say is 100% pure imagination is the ending, which i know will probably make a lot of you frustrated ☺️ (it's because i still haven't told this person my feelings for him oops) ANYWAYS this is written in a very one sided perspective, but i tried to write in a way that you can read between the lines and get a little idea of what peter’s feelings are too. a lot of peter’s and the reader’s feelings are told merely through action and dialogue and less of actual explaining, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless 💞

feedback is greatly appreciated and feel free to request a part 2! enjoy reading!

[masterlist] [join a tag list]

•••

Freshman Year

"This has been going on for weeks," Michelle muttered to you. "If the tension at the table gets any worse, then I'm not sitting with you guys anymore."

You stepped out of the lunch line with your tray in hand, following MJ to stand away from the crowd of students. Looking behind her, you watched Peter and Ned enter the lunch room and sit down at your usual table.

You rolled your eyes. "I already told you. Maybe Peter likes me and maybe I like him back, but he's always been one of my closest friends. I don't want to ruin that."

She scoffed and began walking towards the table with you at her side. "So? You can date and still be friends—"

"But what about when we break up? We either stay friends or never talk to each other again. I'm not risking it."

You knew she would have said more, but the two of you already made it to your table. You took place in your usual seats, Michelle next to Ned and you across from them, next to Peter. You set your backpack on the ground underneath the bench where everyone sat. Without thinking about it, you handed Peter your chocolate milk carton and apple sauce, while he slid over his fruit snacks that May always packed for him. It was a routine; you always got those because you didn't like eating it but you knew Peter did, and Peter never told May that he doesn't like fruit snacks because you loved eating them.

MJ narrowed her gaze at you during the interaction, but you chose to ignore her. It was nothing more than a routine.

"Y/N, Michelle," Ned said. "Please tell Peter that he's being stupid.”

Without missing a beat, you and MJ repeated Ned's words at the same time.

Peter glanced between the two of you with mock surprise. "You didn't even know what we were talking about!"

MJ shrugged, taking a bite out of her food. "Don't have to. You're always stupid, Parker."

He put a hand over his chest. "I'm hurt, guys. I really am."

You chuckled but said nothing more, allowing your three friends to carry the conversation while your mind wandered.

You tried your best to pinpoint the moment you began liking Peter as more than a friend, but your heart wasn't into it.

All you could really tell was when you became more conscious of how close you always sat with him, thighs glued to the side and elbows never coming apart. You blamed it on the lunch table crowded with other students on either side of your friend group, giving you absolutely no space for Jesus in between.

You would catch yourself staring, taking note of his mannerisms and how his light brown hair always seemed to bounce whenever his head moved. You decided you noticed those things because of how long you've been friends with him.

You realized you always watched for his reaction first before seeing the others' after you said something funny, but you told yourself it was only because you valued his opinion the most.

You tried taking note of his flaws in hopes that it would get rid of whatever those feelings were. His hands were always clammy, his backpack was so big that you weren't sure how he didn't topple over when it was on his back, and sometimes he'd spit a little when he talked a lot. (For some reason, those things didn't push you away like you wanted.)

You felt a kick from under the table, bringing you back to the cafeteria. You looked up to be met with Michelle's glare, who signaled you to check your phone. Reaching into your pocket, you took your phone out and looked at the screen under the table.

Michael Jackson: if u keep staring at peter then he might actually notice for once

You gave MJ a look, who was the one who sent the text, and put your phone away. You didn't realize you'd been mindlessly eating until you felt full. You slid your food to Peter, who began eating the rest of it without second thought. (He always ate his lunch first then whatever you couldn't finish as well.) Routine.

Before you could actively participate in the conversation, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

The four of you rose from the long table, gathering your trash to throw it away. You slouched over to grab your bag from where you put it.

"Here ya go," Peter said from behind.

You turned around to see him holding up your backpack for you.

"Oh, thanks," you smiled, swinging the backpack over your shoulders.

He returned the smile. "You going to your locker?"

"Like always, Pete."

"Alright," he slowly backed away. "See you in five?"

You nodded and began walking the other direction, where your locker was. Michelle followed Peter to the band room while Ned decided to accompany you on your short walk.

"Soooo, Y/N," he said suggestively. "That dance is coming up."

You groaned. "I thought the four of us were just going to sleep over at MJ's that night?"

You stopped in front of your locker, opening it to grab a textbook for one of your classes later in the day. You grabbed one of Peter's hoodies that he left in there, knowing it would be cold in the band room. (You had a locker in one side of the school while Peter had his own in the other side. You both agreed to share both, merely for convenience and nothing more.) Ned leaned on the locker next to yours, facing you.

He fiddled with his backpack straps. "You know how the school's making it a 'girls ask guys' kind of thing? Well, Michelle was thinking that maybe we should go! Like, she'll ask me and you can ask Peter—"

You raised a pointed finger at your friend. "I see what you're doing now," you accused him. You shut the locker and began walking towards the band room with Ned beside you. "I don't condone meddling, Leeds."

"But Y/N!" he said excitedly. "MJ and I know that you two like each other. You know that Peter likes you. He knows that you like him. You know that he knows that you like him. He knows that you know that he likes you. It's a win-win!"

You sighed. "You're making it sound more complicated than it actually is."

The two of you made it to the band room and Ned opened the door for both of you to walk in. You both headed to retrieve your instruments, with other students swarming by.

"You're making it actually complicated! Look, Y/N. I'm not supposed to tell you this, but," he lowered his voice, "if you don't ask Peter to the dance, then he's gonna ask you."

You froze, holding your instrument case in the air. "What?" You regained yourself and set the case down, facing Ned. "No, Ned. No. Listen. I'll tell you what I told Michelle, okay? I just want to be Peter's friend—"

"But you like him!"

"But I don't want to do anything about it. It's just a crush—it'll pass. I treasure our friendship more than having a crush that won't last forever."

Ned raised and dropped his arms exasperatedly, giving up.

Michelle popped up, seeming chipper than usual. "Hey guys, we're practicing for contest today," she said. "What're you talking about?"

"It's not gonna happen, MJ," Ned sighed. He grabbed his instrument and trudged away, leaving you two alone since the rest of the students seem to have gone in their respective practice rooms already.

Michelle put her hands on her hips and stared at you, her attitude changing back to normal. "Why not, Y/N? Are you scared or something?"

You sighed. You turned around and headed the same direction Ned went, with MJ following closely behind. "No, I'm not scared. Can you guys please stop meddling? I just don't want anything to happen, and that's it."

The two of you stopped in front of your designated practice room, the door closed. You peeked through the small window in the door, seeing the boys were already in there, oblivious to you and MJ on the other side.

"Why not?" Michelle asked. "You'll regret not ever knowing what could have been—"

"No, that's the thing," you interjected. You were tired of hearing these talks about Peter, and it was beginning to show. "I know that I won't regret it. I can daydream about 'could-have-beens' with Peter all my life, and I'll be fine with that. I don't want to lose him, and if that means that I can't be with him romantically, then that's what I'm gonna do. Having a crush is always temporary, Michelle. Peter's the kind of person that I want permanently in my life. Do you know what I mean now?"

She stared at you with a hint of sadness in her eyes, like she could see right through your words. See what, you weren't sure. After a skeptical moment, she took a breath, surrendering. "Alright, fine. I'll let him know that."

You took a breath of relief. "Thank you."

Michelle turned to open the door to the practice room, Ned and Peter welcoming the two of you in.

The practice room was small with the four of you and your instruments in it, meaning you'd be in close quarters with them—Peter specifically.

It was easy to pretend your feelings for Peter weren't there. It was easy to act like yourself despite the elephant in the room. Before the complications, you and Peter were glued together, so why treat him differently now?

Maybe you noticed him noticing you, watching your moves when you pretended you couldn't see where his line of sight was directed. Maybe you took note of him flinching back whenever you accidentally brushed against him, and how the sweat from his palms were more prominent on his instrument.

But it was easier to ignore those things, which is what made it easier for you to act like it never happened in the first place.

Sophomore Year

You weren't usually one to gloat, but damn it you were right about the situation with Peter and you told yourself that you should be happy about it.

Crushes were always temporary. Friendship could last forever.

Could.

Michelle and Ned eventually stopped bringing it up freshman year, and you figured Peter eventually stopped liking you as well.

The whole ordeal wasn't something any of you talked about, an unsaid truth never to be spoken. You refused to even think about those weird few months and how you felt during that time. You told yourself that having a mutual crush on your best friend wasn't something to think about.

You were just glad that you weren't the center of Peter's attention anymore. You knew this was true, mainly because his attention drifted to Liz Allen. The intelligent, breathtaking, lucky girl: Liz Allen.

Besides Peter's obvious crush on her, nothing changed.

"If you three weren't my only friends at this school," MJ said, "I'd stop eating lunch with you guys."

You followed her out of the lunch line after paying, just like the normal routine since last year. The two of you began walking across the cafeteria and towards the same table you've always sat at, with Ned and Peter already there. (The only difference nowadays was Peter sat next to Ned, and you and MJ sat across from them, so Peter could helplessly drool over Liz across the lunch room.)

You chuckled. "Me too, I think. . . It's because of Peter, huh?"

She groaned. "Duh. All he does is gush about her."

You laughed as you sat down next to Michelle, having finally made it to the table. Before even being able to look at your food, Peter began talking.

"She straightened her hair today, guys! She looks so different but still. . . so good."

Ned followed where Peter's eyes were, seeing it was true. Michelle faked a gag, which only you noticed.

The two of you ate your food in silence, which was something different compared to before Liz came in the picture. Peter also stopped bringing you fruit snacks and eating the food that you couldn't finish, as well as denying to take chocolate milk and apple sauce from you.

Sometimes you'd catch yourself missing those little things, but you told yourself it was only because of the change in what used to be normal. Before, normal was getting squished next to Peter and enjoying it, oddly realizing the days he switched between his cologne, and endless banter between the four of you. Now, normal was having to think of what to say to strike a conversation with him, rolling your eyes at his comments on Liz, and being vaguely aware of the few times he looked your way.

You would find yourself hurting, and you'd have to correct your thoughts and say it was only missing the past. There was no use in feeling sorry for yourself, though. Things happen, feelings change, and that was that. You were still friends with Peter in one way or another, and that's what you wanted, so clearly you had to be happy about things going your way.

"You guys are losers," Michelle told the boys, who were still fawning over the senior girl in the cafeteria.

Peter didn't seem to hear her, (he didn't seem to hear anything you and MJ said, nowadays), but Ned shrugged. "You're still friends with us," he replied.

That was true. You were still friends and that's what mattered. It was weird having to remind yourself of that fact, but it was still that: a fact.

"Hey, Y/N?" Peter spoke out of nowhere.

His voice fazed you. It was odd hearing him say your name now, especially after realizing he used to say it almost as often as he breathed.

"You know about girls, right?"

You and Michelle shared a glance, knowing where this was headed.

"I mean, I am a girl, so yeah," you said. You looked at him, but his eyes never seemed to have left the special girl seated somewhere behind you. You paid no mind to it, your eyes going over how his head was dreamily rested on his hand.

"Okay, so," he began. "Hypothetically speaking. . . If you're a senior, would you date a guy that's a sophomore?"

You rolled your eyes, but decided to mess with Peter. "Well, what's the guy like?"

Michelle snorted.

"He's, uhm. . . He's pretty smart. Really nice, I think—"

"He's a cutie!" Ned chimed in.

You shrugged. "Well, if that's all he has going for him. . ."

"No!" Peter retaliated. "He's really cool, and uh, thinks you're pretty! Yeah, you're pretty."

You felt your face heat up and you were glad that none of your friends were looking at you for once.

You were warned that the people you walk into high school with would never be the people you'd walk out of high school with. People grew apart and that was life, apparently. You didn't think those warnings would actually apply to you, though. You thought the four of you were too strong together to separate.

By the time sophomore year was halfway done, you were proved dearly wrong.

You thought Liz would be the only strain on your friendship with Peter, but his behavior drastically changed out of nowhere then suddenly he got an internship with Stark Enterprises. Peter was one of the smartest people you ever met, so you weren't surprised. If anything, the real surprise was he not only quit the only class he had with you—which was music—but he stopped even trying to talk to you.

You and Michelle decided to stop sitting with Peter and Ned during lunch.

"There he goes again," Michelle pointed.

You followed her gaze and saw that Peter was fawning over Liz again, which was weird considering he rarely showed up during lunch anymore.

It hurt. You knew that now. Missing Peter wasn't something you'd expect to feel, but lately? It's all you've felt.

You didn't have to miss MJ or Ned, because you still saw them and talked to them regularly. It was only Peter. Always Peter freaking Parker.

Maybe you took him for granted. You'd never thought that there'd come a day that you'd stop sharing food, sharing classes, sharing a conversation.

"No point in regretting it," you said aloud.

It was more for yourself than to Michelle. You made your decision on who Peter was to you, so it would only be a waste of time in wondering who he could have been.

Junior Year

Something changed sophomore year. Ned told you that Peter ditched the academic decathlon which resulted in him getting detention. That was something you never expected to hear, considering Peter was the perfect example of Midtown High's star student.

The beginning of junior year, you saw him in music. He stayed this time.

He seemed to be taking advantage of "conveniently" getting the same class like before. He made a point to talk to you again—during class and lunch—and it was like he never ditched you and MJ.

"Oh my God," you rolled your eyes. You aggressively turned your body to face Peter who sat beside you. "You just want to win! You're not even right!"

He looked at Ned and MJ sat in front of you two for help, but they only stared back with clear amusement. (The four of you assumed your usual seats from freshman year, so you would always get squished against Peter's side at lunch again.)

"It doesn't matter if I'm right!" he exclaimed with big hand gestures. "A debate is a debate! You could be right—I'm not saying you are—but I'm just better at debating than you."

Ned did a terrible job at hiding his laughter from the argument you were having with Peter.

This was something that you were happy you had the chance of getting used to again—not that you'd ever tell Peter that. As soon as the school year began and all of you sat together, not so playful yelling was all that accompanied the lunch table.

The dorky boy loved proving himself right, and you loved proving people wrong. As soon as the second week of sharing lunch in the cafeteria passed by, it would have been weird not to bicker with him like before.

Michelle slammed her book closed, startling the three of you to silence. "Look," she said, giving you and Peter a death glare. "Y/N, Peter has some good points—all only technical, but still good."

Peter thanked her and you huffed, upset MJ wasn't on your side.

"Shut up, Peter," she said. "Peter, Y/N's still right, and you're just gross."

"Ha!" you yelled, then rose from the table's bench and reached over to high-five Ned. (You were sure he'd side with either of you, but it was the thought that counts.)

Peter scoffed. "It's not that gross," he said, refusing to take Michelle's answer. "If you were on a deserted island with a bag of frozen chicken nuggets and no microwave, it would still be safe to eat them—"

"The directions say to microwave them for a reason, Peter!" you interrupted.

"It's already cooked!" he brought up, which was something he pointed out earlier in the conversation. "It's cooked before it's frozen, then you can just warm it up in the microwave—but that doesn't mean you have to—"

"Y'know what, fine," you said, slamming your hands down on top of the lunch table. "You can eat frozen chicken nuggets all you want, Peter. But I am going to warm mine up in the microwave like everybody else. And if you get some weird disease, don't come crying to me because I was right—"

"I won't come crying back to you! Because I'm still right!"

The bell rang, signaling the end of your lunch before you could put another word in. The four of you immediately rose, with MJ and Ned heading straight to the band room.

You reached down for your backpack, only not to find it where you left it. Turning around, Peter held it in the air for you to shrug on. Just like before.

The two of you silently walked side by side to your locker so you could switch out textbooks and get one of Peter's sweaters that he always "forgot" in there.

"How's that one guy doing?" Peter asked, one hand in his jean pocket with the other gripping his backpack strap.

You shrugged, opening your locker. He leaned against the locker next to yours, staring you down with his usual grin.

You'd be damned if you didn't say puberty was doing Parker well. You wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't ditched you last school year, but he definitely got. . . toned, to say the least. He also learned how to use hair gel and walked around school with clothes that seemed to make him more confident.

You cleared the thoughts away. Those things were only noticeable because you were friends with him. Obviously.

"You mean Carlos?" you replied. You reached into the locker and sorted out what you needed to.

Peter nodded then grabbed the textbooks you had in your arms. You shut the locker and the two of you began your walk to the band room.

"I'm pretty sure he was flirting with me, which was nice," you told your friend. "But he stopped talking to me out of nowhere and hasn't even opened my messages since."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Here, lemme see the messages."

Before you could reach in your back pocket for your phone, Peter beat you to it with his free hand. He unlocked it and went to the messages. While reading it, he chuckled.

"Seriously, Y/N?" he said, amused. "That's why he stopped replying! You called him 'dude!'"

You gave him a shocked look. "So what? I call everyone dude."

Making it to the band room, you opened the door and followed Peter in. He spoke while the two of you set down your belongings. "You friend-zoned him."

You scoffed. "I did not!"

He gave you a look. "Y/N. I've been friend-zoned enough times to know when somebody else is getting friend-zoned."

You rolled your eyes and turned around to get yours and Peter's instruments, but something felt off about what he said. You didn't really care about talking to Carlos, but what Peter said felt like it was partially directed to you. You didn't blame him, because you technically did friend-zone him. . . but that was two years ago! Clearly he let it go by now, because you definitely did.

Senior Year

You and Michelle stumbled inside her home, waving a goodbye to Peter—who dropped you two off—before shutting the front door.

"Dude," you turned to her. She looked at you with glazed eyes, but was still able to keep her focus. You continued, "I am so gone."

Both of you giggled, leaning on each other to take off your shoes and put aside your bags. MJ led you to a couch, retrieved water from the kitchen, then sat next to you. She chugged the water down with a hand clearly steadier than yours. "What do you mean?" she asked. Her eyes were bloodshot and droopy, but she looked put together for the most part.

You shrugged lazily, taking a sip of your water. "You've seen me smoke," you said to her. "I've been. . . chill, buzzed, whatever. But right now? I am high." Laughter interrupted whatever you could have said next, though you weren't sure if you had anything to say.

She laughed with you, still clearly having a good time despite being more sober. "Really?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "Like," you looked around the room, searching for the right set of words. "I haven't been this high in a while. . . Like, you've never seen me this gone."

"Ooh," she rubbed her hands together comically. "I'm excited."

You rubbed your eye, forgetting the makeup you had on. "Why?"

"Because!" she chirped up. "You know what they say? Drunk words are sober thoughts. Well, high words too, maybe."

You shook your head with a smile before drinking more water. You didn't mind letting loose with Michelle; you trusted her, which was why you smoked as much as you did in the first place. You were comfortable enough to allow her to see this side of you, even if there was the chance you might not remember any of it in the morning.

You helped each other up the stairs, having decided you should at least take off your makeup and change your clothes. (Thank God her parents weren't coming home that night.) By the time you both finished, you were seated comfortably on the couch once again, this time underneath one large blanket and with the television playing late night cartoons in front of you. A single lamp as well as the TV were your only light sources, which kept the living room in a dim glow.

"Can I be honest?" you spoke over the cartoons, startling Michelle. Neither of you were sobering up at all, but that fact didn't stop anything.

She nodded and turned off the TV. MJ turned to completely face you, giving you her attention. "Yeah," she said. "What's up?"

You began rambling without hesitation. "You know how Peter was at the game? Well, of course he was. He had to be because the band was playing for the football team and he's in band. . . But anyways, I didn't talk to him at all—he always seemed busy with somebody else—but I couldn't stop. . . I don't know. I caught myself looking for him a lot, like, to see if he moved around the bleachers or something."

Michelle nodded, allowing you to continue.

"Okay, well. . . I don't know, dude," you continued. "You remember how we had crushes on each other freshman year? Well—I don't think I have a crush on him, I swear—but I feel something. . . It's weird. He's one of my best friends but I know there's something stronger there."

She looked around the room thoughtfully, searching for a reply. "What do you feel?"

It was hard to think clearly and how to explain yourself; the only word that stayed in your head the entire time was his name. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You began rambling. As soon as the words left your mouth, you instantly forgot what they were, but that didn't stop you from talking. "Michelle, it's so weird. I've never really told you this but, remember when he had a crush on Liz? And when he ditched us for a while after that? I—I think I missed him. And not just as a friend. You know what, I don't know."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You shook your hands in the air as if you could shoo your thoughts away.

You continued. "I care about him as a friend and stuff, but I don't think how I've felt about him is how I feel about other people, like you or Ned. It's different. Like, I don't want to lose him. I don't want him out of my life."

Peter, Peter, Peter.

You sighed. "When he was gone for the whole Stark Internship thing, it felt like I really lost someone. I mean, I don't have to talk to you or Ned for days—weeks, even—and I'll be fine. But when the same thing happened with Peter? I would feel so. . . lost."

Michelle nodded, staying attentive the entire time. There was a part of you that knew she wasn't high enough to forget any of this, though you were sure you wouldn't remember much.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked.

You shrugged, looking down at your hands. Peter, Peter. "What does it sound like to you? I don't know what I'm feeling is called, but it's definitely not just a friendly thing."

She stared at you for a moment, contemplating what to do next. "I'm not sure if this has anything to do with you two," she began, "but I think you should know. . . You know how you'd leave during lunch sometimes to go to the bathroom?"

You nodded, recalling the multiple occasions.

"Well," she continued. "Ned and I talked about it, and we noticed that Peter's not the same when you're gone, either. Like, he'd look so bored and would play games on his phone compared to when you're at the table and he'd never stop talking."

You imagined him doing so. "Huh."

"Yeah. . ." she said. "Let's just go to sleep, okay? Sleep on it, and I'll remind you whatever you forgot you said in the morning, alright? Then we can figure out what to do."

As soon as MJ said the word "sleep," you instantly realized how heavy your eyelids felt. You nodded at her proposal, and laid yourself down on the couch with her.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or if it was just that dark in the living room, but you were definitely thinking. You imagined the feeling of being brushed against Peter's body, whenever you sat next to each other or walked side by side in the school halls. He started driving recently, and for some reason you always got shotgun while MJ and Ned didn't hesitate to sit in the back. You could nearly feel your elbows touching when you both leaned on the console at the same time. You remembered the times he'd laugh around you, uncaring about how loud it might've been, as well as the fact that he said your name more times in one day than anybody else did in a whole month.

His absence sophomore year definitely put a strain on you. You loved Michelle and Ned to bits, but you were pretty sure you might've loved Peter in a different way.

Him being out of your life for that period of time was confusing but, at the same time, clearer than looking through a window. You managed to keep tabs on him even if it meant only scrolling through his Instagram or seeing how he'd hold himself across the hall. You knew then that you cared about that boy more than you ever cared for anyone else.

You were terrified of you two becoming more than friends because that meant you had a chance of it ending badly and never talking to him again. Staying friends meant staying safe.

It meant that you had more of a chance of him being with you, which is what you knew you always wanted. You knew you'd be happy, crush or not, as long as Peter was in your life the rest of the way.

Is that what it feels like to love?

You nervously rubbed your hands together, which gained odd looks from other students due to the warm New York weather. It was a few months after that fated night with Michelle, the day of the senior field trip. The entire senior class got to go into the city and do whatever they wanted for an entire school day.

Michelle coolly stood beside you, her hands in both her jacket pockets. "I'm excited," she admitted.

You squinted at her. "For what?"

An uncharacteristic smile broke her face. "You know! You're finally gonna confess your feelings to Parker. It's about time, honestly. Ned and I were beginning to think about calling off our deal we started freshman year—"

"Hey guys!" a voice chimed in from afar.

You gave MJ a look to stop talking about the subject, watching Ned and Peter walking towards you two.

"I am so excited," Ned said. You caught him giving Michelle a wink, which told you that she informed him of the "plan."

You would've groaned if Peter weren't standing right next to you.

"Me too!" Peter said obliviously. "I really want to check out that new pop culture museum."

A teacher announced for everyone to gather up and get inside the bus. The four of you sat in the back together, you and MJ sharing one seat while Peter and Ned were seated right in front of you.

"I'm scared of getting lost, honestly," Ned confessed a bit after the bus began moving.

Peter huffed his chest. "Don't worry, man! The internship," he winked at the three of you, "really let me get to know the city, so I'll know everywhere we go."

You and MJ rolled your eyes together. Peter had shared his secret about being Spider-Man with the two of you not too long after he got his license, only because his "spider senses were tingling" right before avoiding a crash.

"By 'everywhere' do you mean all the port-a-potty's?" you teased him.

Peter made a face. "That was one time! Ya use the bathroom once and that's when the paparazzi show up," he whispered to himself.

You were nervous for nearly the entire day due to the anticipation of confessing to Peter. It was hard figuring out when and where to do so; should you make a big deal out of it like one big crush proposal or just bring it up out of nowhere as if it were the most normal thing to say?

Decisions, decisions.

The four of you were inside the new Museum of Pop Culture, wandering around aimlessly with offhand remarks for everything in the exhibits.

"Guys," Ned said. He walked beside Michelle while you and Peter were behind. "The horror exhibit actually looks pretty scary."

You peeked through the glass doors, the exhibit on the other side. All you could see was red glowing from the ceiling, which did make Ned seem correct.

"Never fear," Peter whispered to the three of you. "Spider-Man is here."

Your group walked through the doors, instantly being met by speakers blasting screams and haunting music. The red lights from above were your only source of light, leading the way deeper into the exhibit.

"Oh," MJ said softly. "Y/N, don't look up."

Not many things scared you, but you knew that Michelle was well aware of what did.

Trusting her, you instinctively gripped onto Peter's upper arm and watched your feet move on the ground. You noticed he instantly tensed at the contact, his bicep tougher with your fingers barely able to wrap around it.

"It's alright, Y/N," Peter said, looking up to see what MJ was talking about. "It's not even that ba—ohmygod we're not walking that way."

He redirected you to the left after the exhibit opened up into a large room. You heard Ned and Michelle chuckle at Peter, who allowed the two of you to move in front of them.

"Dude," you heard Ned from behind. "It's just a bunch of hanging bodies wrapped like. . . mummies?"

Knowing you were well past whatever MJ told you not to look at, you raised your head and took in your surroundings.

"Oh," you said. "It's not that bad."

You looked to the right side of the room where Peter made a point not to cross and saw what Ned was talking about. You laughed, letting go of Peter's arm. "You call yourself Spider-Man? It's not even that scary."

All of you stopped and stood with one of the walls behind you, scoping out the exhibit.

"That's the one thing I don't like!" Peter complained.

Michelle walked over to the small area of fake bodies hanging from the ceiling, all of them covered with cloth and net. She poked it.

"It's fake, you dork," she said.

You and Ned followed her and saw the bodies made a maze, leading to an explanation on what movie that section was about. The three of you taunted Peter, walking into the maze.

The brunette puffed his chest. "Yeah, whatever."

He was last to go inside, the rest of you well ahead. There was a line of bodies between you and him, so you pushed the one closest to him.

Peter screeched.

"One thing!" he screamed. "That is the one single thing! I hate you guys!"

The rest of you broke out into laughter.

You were all seated in a McDonald's booth, leisurely eating your shared meals. You had assumed the same seating as you always did for lunch at Midtown.

You felt a kick from under the table. Looking up, Michelle gave you a pointed look.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she announced.

She scooted out of the booth and stood up.

"Oh yeah, me too." Ned said.

The two of them walked towards the back of the fast food restaurant.

So this was it.

How the hell were you going to do it? You didn't even know if Peter had any feelings more than platonic for you. What if all he felt was platonic? You would make things awkward, ruin your friendship, waste all that time for the past four years being one of his best friends for something non-mutual.

You could hear your heart beating through your eardrums. Your hand shook a little every time you raised a fry to your mouth.

You were terrified. You weren't sure if confessing would even be worth it. In a few months, high school would be over. You'd have no good reason to see any of your friends everyday again, nonetheless Peter by himself.

Maybe you've just been overthinking everything. It wouldn't have been hard to believe that your feelings came only from convenience of going to the same school, having the same class, eating at the same table.

You cared for him, but maybe that was all there was. It could just be an unconditional love, like loving a brother.

You shook your head at yourself. That wasn't it; you definitely did not think of Peter as a brother. Even a little graze against him made your senses go wild. Every time you had eye contact with him, you'd force yourself not to look away despite thinking he'd always have been able to look straight into your soul and know what you felt.

You always knew what he would say if he saw you do something stupid, and you were always excited to hear what he'd think about something that happened to you when he wasn't there. You'd be able to recognize his laugh a mile away, and being the cause of his smile made you feel light.

You knew he'd tell you the truth on which shirt looked better with which jeans and not just say you looked good no matter what. He'd make sure to take stray lint out of your hair and point out if you had something in your teeth.

You've had short crushes on other people, and you even dated some of them for an amount of time. They never made you feel the same way Peter did.

You remembered the feelings you had when you found out he went to homecoming with Liz Allen sophomore year. When you learned of his crush on her, it was a dull ache. But when you even saw them at the dance together? It pierced.

But you were still able to get back to the groove of your feelings after that.

Yeah, you might've been in love with Peter Parker. What took you four years to realize that?

"Hey, Y/N?"

Your head jerked up and you looked at him beside you. God, what were you going to do? Could you bring yourself to say it?

Shut up,you thought to yourself. Eventually, it'll be too late. Say it now.

Peter continued talking after you stayed silent.

"I know this is really out of the blue," he said. He put down the burger in his hands and faced you completely. "But I just want to say thank you for everything. We're gonna be graduating pretty soon and. . . I don't know. I just really appreciate you—and MJ and Ned—for sticking around."

You nodded your head, urging him to continue, nervous to hear what he had to say next.

"Things were really weird after I got bit by the spider and I still feel like shit for ditching you guys for a while. . . But thanks for letting me come back. I couldn't have ever imagined getting better people in my life than you three. Even if we go across the country for college or something, I really hope we can all stay friends. I love you guys, you know."

Oh.

You smiled at him like he did to you. Friends.

You cleared your throat. "I love you too, Pete."

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